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f OF THE
J. Warren Dickson
12 H. 42d St.,
THE UBP.RP.T OF THE
iYkTiVER&VTY OF ILLINOIS
Digitized by the Internet Archive
Story of the First Pansy Period
October 8th to November 5th.
TIME, 6 o'clock. Scene, steps of Hall. Sound of
jollity in the distance.
Act I. introduced by chorus of maidens, great action
and intense excitement, admirably portrayed by innu-
merable kisses and suffocating hugs. New girls posed
near the wings (the protecting wings of Mother Hunt)
statuesque effect representing meekness and bewilder-
ment — general introduction to Mrs. Black in the
Bindestrich, folic ^ed by feast for all characters —
complete delight of all interested — " In bed, perfect
quiet, lights out, half after nine, 1 ' and the curtain drops
on the first act of the drama of the life this year at
Ingleside. For the first day or two Mother Nature
mingled her tears with those of the homesick ones and
had such a dampening effect upon the waiting bonfire
material that it could not be lighted until Friday evening.
This gave the Chickadees plenty of time to array them-
selves in the glory of a new ' ' call ' ' — then it was the new
girls were given startling examples of the power of
Ingleside lungs — not only were the ' ' calls ' ' of the present
day indulged in, but all those that " have echoed down
the halls of time," even to the first class-call, whose one
poor remaining representative inquired energetically but
feebly ' ' Who are we?" striving in vain to reproduce
stentorian tones akin to the past glory of '93.
The First Fireside and the doughnuts claimed our
attention and our appetites on Saturday evening. New
girls and old received the welcome at Hickory Hearth
and were started on the Pansy Scheme for the year.
A week from that time shadowy and grewsome forms
filled the Drill Room, beside which the Ghost in ' 'Hamlet' '
faded into utter insignificance. Somewhat alarmed at
first, but reassured by the others, we joined in what
well might be called the ghost dance in the usual way
till the usual hour.
We could tell you a great deal about study, about
conflicts, about music, but "that's another story," and
we would rather go on to Lazy Lodge, as we did the next
" The lark did not sit high on the walnut tree," but
it rained, it rained, it rained ; nevertheless we had the
j oiliest time, as we always do on an excursion to Wara-
maug, and our sharpened appetites were amply satisfied
by loads of good things at the Lodge. Mushroom Par-
ties, Chestnut Parties, and Sketching Parties took every
one out of doors when the rain ceased, while one lone
strawberry plant hung out a blushing berry to make
itself conspicuous. We then drove home wrapped in
mackintoshes and an all-pervading spirit of cheerfulness.
On the twenty-fourth the seniors gave a german,
which every one seemed to enjoy, even the seniors them-
selves — but that was before they received the bills.
" Love laughs at locksmiths," but Hattie McNeil does
not. Ask her why ?
A few days before All Hallowe'en the principal diet
of the girls seemed to be lead pencils, the ends of which
every one feasted on, as they called desperately upon the
Muse to send them inspiration for a rhyme in answer to
the Chickadees' invitation
Fireside at the Lodge.
Shakespeare found many rivals, and the lesser poets
were completely cast in the shade.
Eight o'clock found us in the Drill Room, "where
we munched, we munched, and we munched," while
Dame Fortune wove our destinies.
We bobbed for apples, and to use a slang expression,
which we hope the Pansy Garten will overlook, there
was one time when the Chickadees had nearly every
girl "ona string. ' '
This brings us to by far the most important event in
the recent annals of Ingleside, the election of Major
William McKinley to the Presidenc}' of the United
States. All the school joined in rejoicing save one poor
Western silver girl, whose grief was such that she ap-
peared at dinner in garb signifying deepest woe. We
had a half holiday, which we trust the children will not
forget was all due to their elders, the seniors.
And the First Pansy Period closes, in a blaze of red
fire, " Old Glory " waving her proudest, and "America"
ringing in every ear.
IylUJAN W. Undkrhiix.
1M westlichen Teile der Provinz Sachsen,
liegt das schone, von Sagen aller Art
Der hochste Berg desselben der Brocken
ist 3,500 Fuss hoch. Auf diesem liegt ein
Plateau, Hexentanz-platz genannt. Die
Sage erzhalt, dass in der ersten Maien
Nacht, die Hexen auf Besen durch die I^uft
reitend, dort eintreffen um ihre Versamme-
lung zu halten.
Der bekannteste Berg ist aber wohl der
durch die I^egende von Friedrich Barbarossa
beriihmt gewordene Kyffhauser.
Das Gebirge ist meist mit Nadelwal-
dungen bedeckt, doch befinden sich auch im
siidlichen Teile die herrlichsten Iyaub-
Der Harz ist keine zusammenhangende
Gebirgskette, sondern eine Gruppe von
einzelnen Bergen und meist schroffen
Auf vielen Bergen befinden sich die
Ruinen mittel-alterlicher Rittenburgen, von
INGLES! HE LOG. n
denen Heinrich Heine in seiner Harz-reise das Schloss
Hardenberg als die schonste bezeichnet.
Meine heutige Erzahlung betrifft aber einen andern
Berg, die Rosstrappe genannt weil sich auf demselben ein
Abdruck wie von dem Hufe eines riesigen Pferdes befin-
det. Von der Entstehung desselben erzahlt man folgende
Vor vielen, vielen hundert Jahren lebt ein Konig in
Bohinen, der eine wunderschone Tochter, Namens Brun-
hilde hatte. Die Prinzessin hatte viele Bewerber unter
denen sich auch der Prinz vom Harz befand, Diesem
schenkte sie ihre I^iebe und schwur ihm ewige Treue,
Nach der Verlobung kehrte der Prinz in seine Heimat
zuriick um seinem Vater sein Gliick zu melden und das
Schloss zum Empfange der Prinzessin bereit zu machen.
Kaum aber hatte sich der Prinz entfernt da erschien
einer jener Riesen die vor alten Zeiten den Norden Euro-
pas, bewohnt haben sollen und forderte die Hand der
Prinzessin. Der Konig welcher furchtete der Riese
mochte ihn und sein ganzes-Hans verderben wenn er
ihm die Tochter verweigere, versprach, trotz der fleh en-
den Bitten Brunhildes seine Wunsche zu erfiillen. Dieser
Riese Namens Bode besass zwei wunderbare Riesenpferde.
Das eine davon war Schwartz und seine Augen spriiten
wie Blitze ; das andere, welches er fur die Prinzessin
bestimmt hatte war weiss und seine Augen leuchteten
wie Sterne, Auf dieses Pferd nun baute Brunhilde ihren
Sie bat den Riesen sie das Pferd reiten zu lassen, was
dieser mit Freuden that. Bald gewann sich Brunhilde
die Zuneigung des Tieres, so dass es ihren leisesten Win-
Hinige Tage vor der Hochzeit gab der Konig ein
Fest, zu dem die Prinzessin prachtig geschmiickt, ihre
goldene Krone auf dem Haupte erschien. Bode be-
trachtete sie mit Kntziicken und sie zeigte sich freund-
licher gegen ihn als gewohnlieh. Als sich nun die Gaste
entfernt batten und der Konig mit Bode in der Halle
trank benutzte sie den Augenbliek eilte hinab, bestieg
ihr Pferd und jagte mit Sturmeseile davon.
Kaum horte Bode das Wiehern des Pferded, da
sprang er wiitend empor, schlug mit der Faust auf den
Tisch, dass das ganze Schloss erzitterte, stiirtzte hinab,
sprang auf sein Pferd und folgte der Prinzessin.
Die ganze Nacht dauert dieser furchtbare Ritt, die
Erde erhebt unter den Hufen ihrer Pferde. Endlich
dammert der Morgen im Osten, und da liegt vor der Prinz-
essin der lieblicher Harz, die ersten Strahlen der Morgen-
sonne vergolden die Spitzen der Berge.
Plozlich sieht sich Brunhilde vor einem schrecklichen
Abgrund. Das Tier halt erschreckt inne der Riese ist
dicht hinter ihr. Da beugt sie sich dicht iiber ihr Pferd
und niistert ihn ins Ohr.
Spring zu ! teures Tier noch diesen Sprung, und wir
sind gerettet. Nun baumte sich das edele Ross hoch
empor, und mit einem machtigen Satze fliegt es, einem
Vogel gleich hiniiber, mit seinem Hufe die Treppe in den
Berg einschlagend, dann stiirzt es tot zusammen.
Wahrend des Sprunges fiel die goldene Krone von
dem Haupte der Prinzessin und das Pferd des Riesen, ge-
blendet von dem Glanze derselben in der Sonne stiirzte
mit ihm in den gahnenden Abgrund.
Heute fliesst ein reissender Fluss in diesem Thale,
welcher zum Andenken an den Riesen, Bode heisst.
A. Florence Browning.
Starting for Church.
'•" a. .'-*■,
iSh> '-'' "* f . * '
'■' . .. .
Where the Blue Gentian Nods in Dewy Slumbers Bound.
Story of the Second Pansy Period.
November 5th to December 10th.
NOVEMBER in New England brought to us Southern
girls visions of snow and ice, but we were dis-
appointed, for the first part of the month was as beauti-
ful as one could wish. Valley and river were charming in
what the natives called an " Indian Summer " haze, and
in damp quiet nooks on the ' ' Aspetuck ' ' the wonderful
blue gentian opened its bright eyes in the sunshine, and
hid itself again when the frosty evenings came. It was
not until a few days before the longed-for vacation came,
that we had our first snow ; a snow as persistent as it
was light, for it stayed on and on.
In the earlier part of the month, we had much to
make the time pass quickly both out of doors and inside,
and the days did not drag as we supposed the}' would.
We were all more than interested in Ethel Hopkins's in-
itiation into the "Pansy Garten," although it did not
concern those " outside the wall," in the least. The new
1 6 INGLE SIDE LOG.
girls made many exclamations of wonder at the myster-
ious signs on the bulletin boards, and at the many queer
actions of the autocratic Pansies, and the very submissive
demeanor of their victim. Under cover of darkness she
was conducted to the Geheimness room on Hickory
Hearth and the rest was really Geheimness to us ordinary
Not long after this, on a bright Wednesday afternoon,
we saw posted " Line formed 4.45 " for Church, and we
speedily learned that a Missionary meeting was to be
held. Now, if any of the girls at that time had the idea
that Missionary meetings were dull, they were very much
mistaken, for the addresses of Bishop Wells and the Rev.
Mr. Kinsolving were so interesting that many girls went
again to the evening service.
November seems to be a favorite month for birthdays,
at least at Ingleside, and the Robin gave to one of its own
nest a surprise party which surprised us all, while the
Chickadee had also some one to congratulate.
One Wednesday afternoon there was a great hurry-
ing, slamming of books into drawers, snatching of capes,
and running to the different cottages.
An old girl would know what this meant, but to a
newcomer I must explain. The dancing-school was to
begin that afternoon, and the girls had only a half hour
in which to get ready. Of course all possible haste was
needed, for weren't the Rectory Boys coming?
A few days after this we had a lecture by Mr. Bissett
on " How to Study History," and the " Famous Rides
in American History." Perhaps we have not grasped
INGLE SIDE LOG. 17
his great idea of History, but I am sure every girl's pa-
triotism was stirred by his beautiful description and ex-
planation of " Paul Revere' s Ride."
At last the holidays came and the hearts of the girls
were made happier — if possible — by the announcement
that all could go home on Tuesday afternoon instead of
Wednesday morning. You may be sure no one said they
were not prepared, and what a line there was formed to
leave by the afternoon train ! There were only twelve
girls left behind, but those twelve girls determined to
have a good time, and they did. When the first box
came — will the girls ever forget that fruit-cake? — we
feasted and made merry, but when the last came we
only shook our heads and sighed. If any one is anxious
to find out how we managed to keep awake as late as we
did, just let them dine on fruit-cake and ham sandwiches
— they will not wonder any more.
Saturday the girls came back, and, after listening to
their tales of fun over and over again, we settled down to
hard work on Monday. Each examination seemed trying
to be a little harder than the one before. The girls
studied and studied. At the table those versed in chem-
istry asked for glasses of " H. O." and requested their
neighbors to kindly pass the " U. a. c. e." that they
might not forget those brain-splitting symbols. But oh !
How sore are our hearts o'er those horrid old problems,
Which dear Mr. Draper presents to our view,
The x's and y's and the deep-tangled fraction,
Which Wentworth himself would be puzzled to do.
The clocks and the foxes, the tanks and the greyhounds,
The cups and the horses, the shepherd and sheep.
18 INGLESIDE LOG.
Oh, those awful equations,
Those mixed-up equations,
Those " won't come " equations,
That make us all weep !
But we finally finished and were rewarded for our
labor by a charming reading which Miss Van Kirk gave
us on Rossetti. She told us his life, and read us some of
his poems, and the girls found the evening most delight-
Another thing which required great concentration of
mind was learning to keep step in the line. We were
marched out every morning at 8.15 around the little
circle back of the "Studio," and the ground was so
frozen that we stumbled and lost our count at nearly
every step. But we kept on, "left, right, left, right,"
until the very houses seemed to echo it, and. the
only remark the leaders appeared able to make was this
rather peculiar one : " You're bobbing." Perhaps every
one does not understand it, but there are some who do.
Now, we Ingleside girls come walking along, looking as
if we had been wound up, all wearing a sort of an auto-
matic-toy expression, but nevertheless we are told that
we are " a thing of beauty and a joy forever."
Ivast, but not least, we have had the first skating.
Friday afternoon the ice was fine and twelve of us went out
for a good time, and a good time we had. Some of us
never found the attraction of gravitation stronger, nor
exhibited its force better, but that is a part of the fun,
All the calendars in school have a worn expression. Do
you know why ? Well, it is because this month every girl
has looked up, marked down, and checked off, the days
that are to elapse before the Xmas holidays, at least
twenty-four times in each twenty-four hours.
To sum it all up, this month has been a mixture of
realization, jollification, examination, and anticipation.
Story of the Third Pansy Period.
December ioth to January 28th.
SAMUEL H. SCUDDKR, in the October Harpers,
gave a very interesting paper on American Crickets,
their characteristics, peculiarities, etc. He spoke of
several varieties, and we suppose he fancied he had
covered the whole ground, but he did not mention the
Cricket of Hickory Hearth. The fact is, it seems to us,
that the world generally is ignorant on this very impor-
tant subject. We are glad, however, that a writer of
good standing has interested his readers in the ordinary
American Cricket; we do not doubt the day will come
when the Crickets of Hickory Hearth will also be ap-
One of the peculiarities common to all Crickets, which
he mentions, is a desire to stay at home, to ignore the
outside world, to watch the kettle and to chirp upon the
hearth ; so it seems to us rather hard to expect one of
the Hickory Hearth Crickets to write about outside
matters, even about the doings of Ingleside during this
past month. Of course, we hop down to school and
mingle in the giddy throng from time to time, but we
are supposed to be superior to ' ' Pansy regulations ' ' and
INGLES IDE LOG. 21
past the tender age when " Pansy cards " are a necessity.
In a way we look on from the outside, absorb a good
deal of information (and fun too), criticise perhaps a
little, but when the evening shadows fall, like all the
rest of the Cricket family, we sit on our own hearthstone
and, warming ourselves in the ruddy blaze, we chirp and
chirp about ourselves and our affairs, singing our monot-
onous song in a merry sort of way, which seems to please
the Mistress of the Hearth as well as would even the
classical music of one of the Ingleside symphony classes.
Now when the autocratic ' ' Unter Gartner, " " clothed
with her brief authority," singles out one of this con-
tented circle, and marks her for her own, bidding her
"write" whether she have material or not, all the
obedient Cricket can do is to call on the rest of the
Cricket family to help her in the emergency, and to re-
call, if possible, the doings of the wild crowd of school-
girls under the hill for the month just past. What have
they done and what has happened in the Ingleside world,
that is the question, during this Pansy Period since the
last Fireside, December 12.
We remember a little sigh when, at that third Fire-
side, it was announced that the Rectories were unavoid-
ably detained by chicken-pox.
The poor ' ' Rectories ' ' ! To-night they are victims of
the measles and so cannot accept Mrs. Black's standing
invitation. In passing, one would think the Rectories
had spent time enough in this sort of thing this year.
Are they avoiding examination week, or is it simply a
fancy of theirs for being interesting invalids ?
The Crickets know not !
After the Fireside there came a few days only before
the start for the vacation. I think all Ingleside spent its
time outside of class-work, these few days, in hugging its
neighbor or dearest friend, and giving queer long-drawn
" ohs " and " ahs," ejaculating " to think we are going
home ! " from one ; response in the same excited voice,
" don't it tho' !" Another frantic hug, and they tear
off to some class where their recitations are certainly
original, if not intelligent. L,ong- suffering parents re-
ceive incoherent telegrams regarding the time of their
arrival at home ; Misses Hill and Rinker metaphorically
tear their hair over the absurd questions as to trains and
baggage and the contradictory decisions at the office.
No matter when the hour for departure is appointed —
and half the girls don't know — all beg to go " the day
before," " the train before," " the minute before," any-
thing, to get the best of fixed rules and regulations.
The Christmas fever seems to strike the elder portion of
the community also, and one of the most dignified of the
faculty changes her mind at least ten times as to whether
she shall go home or not.
Eventually the long looked-for day arrives, and the
crowd of excited girls, with rather a suppressed parting
shout — not the natural Ingleside yell — wend their way
from Terrace Place to the station. Here every one tries
to find every one else, to tell them Good-by, but trains
have no feelings, and conductors very little sentiment ;
so they are hustled upon the cars, helped on by every
one at all interested in their getting off. The ' ' dearest
friend," who leaves an hour later, stands on the platform
under the wing of Mother Hunt, waving frantically ; the
travelers flatten their noses against the pane, and call
out important messages, till that moment quite forgotten ;
the friend smiles sweetly, hearing nothing — the messages
are clearly heard, however, by the traveling public — and
the girl is called to order by the energetic chaperone; she
subsides, and the train steams out. Away off in the dis-
tance the last glimpse of the roofs of Ingleside is caught
in a farewell kodak, the girls settle back into their seats —
the vacation has be-
&r# ; k-J
gun ! What the va-
cation story is we
do not know.
All came back —
after a time — but the
majority of the Crickets were
chirping away in their usual
manner, long before the num-
bers were full in the cottages under the hill.
All the girls told all the other girls what splendid
times they had had, and at last Ingleside stopped talking
for lack of breath, and went to work.
Somehow, even the cold of this January weather has
not stopped the jollity and good times since school began.
The merry laughter of the girls rings out from every
cottage. There is a new influence, a new spirit in the
school, a tonic, which is having its effect, a sunshine,
which thaws us out even on the coldest days, and while
the work goes on with unvarying regularity, not one girl
is afraid to be happy since Miss Van De Water has come
The bowling tournament is really the most important
event of the month. First each cottage bowled for a
Miss Van De Water and "The Kid Faculty."
champion. Four girls, two teachers, and Miss Doone
won the coveted opportunity. Then Saturday evening,
January 23, the grand tournament came off. The little
Wigwam looked its prettiest, with the long line of expect-
INGLE SIDE LOG.
ant faces on each side of the Alley. Miss Hill kept
score, and Mr. Draper umpired the game. The contest-
ants stood in line to be inspected, then they bowled
in turn, and their constituents from the various cot-
Corner in Wigwam.
tages cheered or groaned as the case required. Some
girls aimed at the pins wildly, some apparently at a hid-
den enemy in the cellar, some did the work splendidly,
and all made lots of fun. After the first string we ate
26 INGLE SIDE LOG.
ice cream, and those of us who are not ourselves fine
bowlers, advised the players and explained how games are
won. Then came the final game, and champion Warner,
of the Chickadee, backed by the class of '98, took the first
prize on highest score — agoldtenpin; Lois Pratt, of the
Hall, second prize, for most graceful and accurate bowling
— a silver-bound housewife ; and Miss Doone marched
home triumphant with the booby prize — a tenpin baby.
A flutter of excitement should be mentioned during
this month when the news of moving Ingleside to the
Weantinaug Hotel property another year was announced
by Mrs. Black. Some old girls talked cottage sentiment
and " Auld L,ang Syne," while the new girls highly ap-
plauded ; but we think all have been converted to the
advisability of the change during the last snowstorm.
The necessary shrieks and clatter in preparation for
the coming half-yearly Musicale resound on all sides
now, and the half-yearly exams, cast their baneful
shadow before. Even Crickets seek in vain a refuge and
are helpless victims. To tackle the exams. , or publicly
announce that you are afraid ! What an alternative ! But
we trespass upon the interests of the future.
The Fourth Pansy Period closes with a big blizzard
of a snowstorm, enlivened by a false alarm of measles for
which Miss Florence Browning is responsible. Some
people " sigh for fame," you know ! and the Crickets,
overcome with the tremendous effort of ' ' writing up ' '
this most eventful period of the school year, and of
manufacturing under the direction of the terrible ' ' Unter
Gartner" " bricks without straw," hop quietly off, bid-
INGLE SIDE LOG.
ding a cordial welcome to the Inglesiders who cluster
about the Hearth to-night, and begging that they make
some startling history, to be recorded by some more for-
tunate individual at the next Fireside Meeting.
The Frozen Waterfall.
A POOR Virginia girl, settled in a little Connecticut
village for the winter, is expected to write enthusi-
astically upon ' ■ Winter Sports. ' ' How can she do it ?
leaving the most beautiful climate in the world to come
to bleak New England, what does she care for winter
She is asked to skate. After a walk of a mile or two
over a hard frozen road, with the thermometer ten be-
INGLESIDE LOG. 29
low zero, she reaches the pond, where the steel machines
are strapped on her unwilling feet, and she is requested
to stand up. She tries, but surely the ice is the most
slippery ever "invented," even in Connecticut. After
some fatal attempts at skating she returns to lament and
nurse her bruises for the next week or two.
One of her daily "pleasures" (?) is a brisk walk
along Main Street with a line of forty girls. The ground
is frozen under foot, and the winds blowing about her
head. Of course she dislikes it, but New Bnglanders be-
lieve in plenty of exercise, so she has this pleasure every
Then the poor Virginian is asked to go tobogganing.
She accepts, but what an experience she has ! It seems
that the toboggan will start before she is ready, but at
last she manages to seat herself, gather her skirts about
her, and goes with lightning speed to the end of the
slide. Of course she is scared, for she may land in a
snowbank at any moment. However, she reaches the
end in safety, and toils wearily up the hill, and is ex-
pected to do the same thing over again.
She is asked to go on a sleigh-ride, and, when she re-
turns, agrees more than ever with the man who said it
was much cheaper, and certainly as pleasant, to put your
feet in a bucket of ice-water and ring a dinner-bell in
your ears for an hour, as to take a sleigh-ride. She is
asked to play golf. She tramps over the fields, and gets
about as cold as possible, and returns utterly worn out,
for she is not fond of walking.
So when Spring comeSj this Virginian goes back to
INGLE SIDE LOG.
1 ' The Iyand of the Sunny South. ' ' In place of snow-
banks she finds long stretches of flowering meadows ; in
place of New England's clouds, warm, starlit skies ; in-
stead of howling winds, singing birds ; in place of blind-
ing sheets of snow, warm sunshine ; and, best of all, Home
and a Southern welcome.
Margarkt Mitchell, Fostkr.
A Cold Day On the Farm.
Story of the Fifth Pansy
January 28th to February 27th.
WE have always wondered in a
stupid sort of a way why Feb-
ruary, as a general thing, has only twenty-
eight da} T s to its credit, but it has sud-
denly flashed upon us that the wise old
calendar-maker knew that some day
Ingleside girls were going to have ' ' ex-
ams " about February time, and of course
quietly shortened this month, that the
dreaded period might be out of the way
two days earlier.
It has been to Ingleside this year
a mixture of extreme anxiety and great
32 INGLE SIDE LOG.
happiness. It is hardly necessary to say what were
the feelings of the girls during the first part of the
month. The word examination expressed all our woe
and anguish. Girls were scarcely seen to smile during
the whole dreadful week. Occasionally faces relaxed
a trifle when three o'clock came, but grim determination
and a sort of " two examinations to-morrow " expression,
returned about seven p.m. There is a minor strain in
this week. In fact they are all minor strains, but this
is a " minory " minor one — for enlightenment see Prov-
erbs, thirty -first chapter, eighteenth verse.
When ' ' exams ' ' ended we thought we were
through with all our tasks, but the girls who played in
the Musicale had only begun to realize that music did
mean something, namely, work. And we poor mortals,
who had nothing to do but listen, thought we needed a
little sympathy, for Mozart and Mendelssohn, Mignon
and Seraphim dinned at our ears, mixed themselves up
in our heads, and played havoc with our nerves during all
those hours of practice. Many a time we sighed, " Oh
for a lodge in some vast wilderness. ' ' The grand event
at last took place, and each performer deserves the hearty
congratulations of all Ingleside.
It was in the midst of this excitement, when the girls
were rushing to and fro, that the sad news of the death
of Pauline Otis came to us. This cast a gloom over the
whole school, and one which her many dear friends found
hard to lift. L,oved by all who knew her, she leaves a
vacant place in our hearts which can never be filled.
The Pansies added another flower to the Garten on
INGLESIDE LOG. 33
Saturday, February thirteenth. The gate opened to the
popular — well, you Pansies know — to admit Mildred
Thorpe into its mysterious precincts.
The Friday following Mrs. Bloodgood, Mr. Clemence,
and Mr. Engel arrived, and we enjoyed one of the most
pleasant of all Ingleside's musical entertainments. The
young vocalists at Ingleside now aspire to the excellence
of Mrs. Bloodgood. Another event which made the en-
tertainment more pleasing was the presence of the ' ' Rec-
tories," who have long been missed by Ingleside. We
hope now that they have safely recovered and will never
be so foolish as to contract measles again, especially if
they want the respect of this vicinity, for we had a little
scare of our own over the same thing.
The Seniors, who pride themselves on being on the
top of the street, and think themselves likewise on the
top in everything else, had one of their glorious class
speedily dispatched to ' ' the Bob ' ' one morning, where
(Rhetoric class please take notice) the physician reported
symptoms of "incipient rubeola" but there are times
when even Seniors fail, and only a cold developed.
It was not coming events, but the energetic Golf Club
which cast their shadows before us, on February thir-
teenth. Would that all shadows were as pleasant and
cheering as theirs !
Ingleside was glad to open her doors to three old
girls this month, and to welcome several other visitors.
Many of the girls went home for the birthday of our
illustrious ancestor, but Ingleside also celebrated the
event by a holiday. The girls were allowed to go down-
town unchaperoned — Oh, you Freshmen, you actually
are smiling now to think for once you have had a Senior
privilege. When night came, between the glorious wed-
ding and the candy -pull, the girls dreamed, not only of
George Washington, but of ancestors far more fierce.
To illuminate the whole month we have " The
Sparks," which certainly have not enlightened many
minds thus far, but, we pray you, have patience. A
Senior remarked one day that editing a paper was espe-
cially lovely for the " class of '98," as it was considered
a Junior duty. But we are left in a perplexed and won-
dering state as to what the Juniors were doing last year.
Story of the Sixth
February 27th to March 25th.
MARCH has done her duty
this year by coming in
like a lion and going out like a
The bulletin has said ' ' Walk
excused ' ' more times than usual,
much to our joy. Were out-
siders to step in at three o'clock
and hear us all, except the rev-
erend seniors, of course, asking
in one breath, "Is there a
walk ? ' ' they might puzzle for
days and not find out our mean-
ing. But we know.
Lent came upon us with wind
and rain, but the services have
been well attended. We have
listened with great interest to the
Wednesday evening sermons by
the visiting clergy and our choir
has made us justly proud.
36 INGLESIDE LOG.
One morning Mr. Hunter, of St. Augustine School,
in Raleigh, talked to us of Athens as it is at present.
Many of us remember his visit last year and the enthusi-
asm with which his account of his work inspired us. We
regret to state that his questions on the present occasion,
especially those relating to scriptural passages, were not
answered with amazing rapidity.
We have had Sparks of various kinds this month,
those of wit and wisdom and those of a more practical
and ordinary kind. The initial number of the " Ingle-
side Sparks ' ' appeared after a short delay at the printers
and had a warm reception. It is truly of great benefit
to the poor unfortunate mortal who is detailed to write
the " Story of the Month." As for the real article, our
excitement rose to a high pitch one day when the cry of
" fire " was heard on peaceful " Terrace Place." Recita-
tions were excused and the windows of the " Binde-
strich ' ' were filled with eager faces as we gazed awe-
stricken on the mass of flames only a short distance away.
We were quiet, to the credit of Ingleside be it said, but
do not think we were content, to remain cooped up while
our faculty trooped to the scene of action.
The limited fire department worked nobly and at
length the fire was gotten under control. But it looked
so dangerous for a while that some of us actually began
to wonder what things we would pack first if worst came
to worst. Of course our sofa pillows and photos must
be saved and we have no doubt that we should have de-
veloped unusual judgment and heroism had occasion
required. As it was we only gazed out of the window.
INGLESIDE LOG. 37
Miss Rinker ran out from her sanctum and extinguished
two bits of burning paper. But for this prompt action
the Cuckoo might now be a thing of the past.
St. Patrick's Day dawned bright and fair. Miss
Robbins can testify that the Seniors were the greenest
Miss Rinker Ready for Action.
things in the institution — they were a regular grass-
green. The rest of us were content to let our eyes grow
green at dinner-time. Then the ' ' Specials ' ' showed
their ability and the " Seniors " their capacity.
During the month Miss Connally and Miss Bliss were
38 INGLESIDE LOG.
favored with cakes and candles. This custom has be-
come more and more popular in the course of the year as
the list of birthdays has increased. There is great pleas-
ure in sitting in state with expectant joy upon our faces,
while the occupants of other tables leave the dining-
The bright spring days are bringing with them the
out of -door sports, "Hop-Scotch" and Ball being the
first symptoms. The chalk-marks extend all the way to
the corner. Friends, do you realize how you look hop-
ping around after a small pebble? Probably not, so we
will leave you to hop on into next month.
ENDUCH scheint die Sonne wieder
Und die Krde steht geschmiickt,
Und im Wald erklingen I^ieder,
Und die Menschen sind begliickt.
4o INGLESIDE LOG.
Und die sanften Friihlingswinde
Facheln leicht die schone Erd' ,
Als erzahten sie dem Kinde,
Was das Leben noeh beschert.
Spreehen von des Sommers Fiille
Wo die stolze Rose gliiht,
Wo aus jeder griinen Hiille
Eine holde Bliite sieht.
Spreehen von des Herbstes Segen
Von der Friichte goldener Pracht,
Sagen wie auf alien Wegen
Gliiek und Freude fiir sie lacht.
Below the Bridge.
Story of the Seventh Pansy Period,
March 26th to May 6th.
THE last Fireside was held in the Overlook, and great
was the excitement in that domicile an hour before
the business meeting. Truth compels the statement that
everyone seemed happy, with the exception of one person
(no name mentioned), who about that time would much
rather have been in any place than the Overlook.
42 INGLE SIDE LOG.
April was to have been rung in by two good-sized cow-
bells, but owing to a breakage in the strings, it had to
come in unannounced. The sun cautiously peeped over
the hills as if expecting to find a joke awaiting him, but
everything was quiet on Terrace Place. Indeed any one
might have thought the first of April was just an ordi-
nary day and not twenty-four hours of practical jokes ;
about lunch time, however, they would have changed
their minds, for in the Bindestrich we were served to
paper croquettes and acid water. A few other jokes were
played, some of which were too deep for Ingleside's
younger minds, and here let me mention something I am
sure you will all be glad to know — that for once the
Juniors did ' ' take the cake. * '
Beside the first of April, we had our Easter vacation
to enliven the month, which, through the intercession of
Miss Van De Water, and the kindness of Mrs. Black,
was prolonged seven days. It was hard to compose our-
selves and put our minds on our studies during those
nine long days before " play time," but we managed to,
We were all delighted when we heard that Dr. Van
De Water was to preach again during Lent, and were all
ready to welcome him when he came. The electric lights
unfortunately went out the night of his arrival — his
brilliancy was so much greater the}' were probably
ashamed to shine while he was near, — so we all went
down to St. John's Church to hear him. I think the in-
habitants of the town must have been surprised at the
length of the line that night, Ingleside had never before
INGLE SIDE LOG.
boasted of one so long. The hearts of the Seniors were
made glad, and they became reconciled to walking to
church with the whole school, when they found Dr. Van
De Water was to pay them a call after service. We
feasted him on crackers and milk, and he saw the house
The first warm days that came made us realize that
winter could not last all the year round, as we were be-
ginning to think it might. The grass looked green and
44 INGLESIDE LOG.
the buds more promising, even a straw hat was seen at
intervals, and occasionally (yes, very occasionally, be-
cause of Mother Hunt) a shirtwaist was worn, but she
will tell you that seeing a girl with a shirtwaist on does
not signify spring, because, if she did not prevent it, they
would be worn at twelve below zero and still the wearer
would insist that she was ' ' perfectly warm Mother
Hunt. " In spite of all the joy, we remember days in the
month when our girlish hearts were heavy with sadness,
and we longed to be a comfort and help to those whose
sorrow was deepest. Even the girls that did not know
Mrs. Sanford felt in her death the loss of a friend, and
many a lesson was taught us by her patience through
her long illness.
Vacation came at last and only six girls and a few of
the faculty remained to keep up the story of Ingleside,
but what that story is we have never managed to find out,
we have only heard faint rumors of Rectory boy calls and
candy pulls, when the candy refused to pull ; however,
where all is mystery we may venture to say the girls who
remained managed to drive dull care away quite success-
The evening of April twenty-sixth found most of us
at the New Milford station, and dropping our vacation
news we took up our school life where we left it, not to
put it away until June tenth, which for some of us means
With the apple blossoms the spring sunshine and
other pleasant things, came Mabel Colvin — and in a day
she seemed never to have been away.
INGLE SIDE LOG.
Miss Hilliard gave a charming entertainment for the
Pansy Garten. Ask the Pansies if they had a good time
selling tickets !
The Dancing Class gave their farewell dance and some
of the outsiders were made happy by an unexpected invi-
With the Apple Blossoms."
tation. It is impossible to tell of the fun that everyone
had that night, only one who has been to such a dance
can imagine. The preparations for Commencement have
been in full swing and everyone is beginning to realize
that school for this year is nearly over. The old Wean-
46 INGLE SIDE LOG.
tinaug Hotel is raising its roof at the thought of having
Ingleside established over there next year, and feels ap-
parently that it has a future.
Miss Isabel Sadler, a graduate of '95, has gladdened
the hearts of her friends by coining to New Milford for a
This month has also seen the completion of one of the
greatest works of the century, in other words the Seniors
have at last finished their ' ' Grinds. ' '
Anna E. Fletcher, '97.
Unsere Blume, '97,
BIyAU ist die Farbe des Himmels,
Der Treue Farbe ist blau ;
Blau is die Farbe des Meeres,
Blau schimmert der Morgenthau.
Und blau im wogenden Korne
Erbliiht eine Blume so frei ;
Gleichsam als wollte sie flehen
Den Segen des Himmels herbei.
Die Blume der Konigin Iyouise ' '
So heisst sie im deutsehen L,and
Die Blume des Jiinglings ' ' aber,
Amerika hat sie benannt.
So meinet sie Treue und Tugend
Und Starke und edeles Gemiith ;
Und fleht urn den Segen des Himmels
Im wessen Herzen sie bluht.
Isabel Nelson Smith.
the Eighth Pansy
May 7th to June 7th
THE first few days were cloudy and
unpleasant, but soon the sun-
shine reappeared, and that May, " the
loveliest month of all the year," was
really here, no one could deny. The
beautiful spring flowers seemed every-
where, the tennis courts were filled
with maidens, some awaiting their
turn for a set, others merely lookers
on ; the bicyclists were out in full
force, and a chance passer-by seeing
more girls still, members of the
famous Ingleside Golf Club, madly
pursuing their balls from link to link,
could not doubt that Ingleside was
strong in the athletic department.
On Wednesday, May ninth, the
INGLE SIDE LOG. 49
girls attended the Dime Coffee given at Mrs. Draper's.
Selections by the " G.B.C' added greatly to the pleasure
of the evening and all reported a most agreeable time.
The following Sunday, just after our return from
Church, smoke was seen issuing from some building on
the hill and word soon came that the Rectory School
was burning. The fire did not prove to be as serious as
was at first supposed, and there was no opportunity for
great and glorious deeds on the part of our friends ' ' The
Rectories," but so much damage was done by water that
some of the boys were obliged to seek temporary homes
in the village. Could this have been the reason for the
sudden interest in ball playing in the vicinity of the
Hall, or for the unusual charm discovered in certain
walks hitherto considered unattractive ?
Another fire and yet another came; I wonder if the
Seniors will ever forget the last; the theories that were
advanced that night before we could be persuaded to re-
tarn to our own rooms were many and various, and it
was sad to find in the morning that no matter how care-
fully proven the night before, they were all entirely
Much of our time just now was filled with study, and
with rehearsals of the various entertainments to take place
during Commencement week, but when Mrs. Black so
kindly asked us to spend the day with her at I^ake War-
amaug all care was thrown aside and we gave ourselves
up to the pleasure of the moment.
The day was delightful, the I^ake beautiful as ever;
little L,azy Lodge had the same warm welcome for us as
INGLE SIDE LOG.
before, and to all of us the memory of our last ' ' Fireside ' '
in '97 will ever be a pleasure and a delight.
Not among the least interesting events this month have
been the ball games between the Rectory and the Gun-
nery. On the twenty-second the Ingleside girls attended
Where the Boats Come in.
the game in New Milford, and great excitement prevailed
when the " Rectories" won by a large majority, but the
climax was reached when, the following week, Mr. Ever-
est kindly inviced us to the game at Washington. He
joined us with the " Rectories " on the road, and we were
surprised with a tempting lunch most charmingly served
on the banks of the noisy Shepaug. Later came the game
on the Gunnery grounds, and sad to say, in spite of our
enthusiastic shouts for our friends of the red and white,
who did fine work, the ' ' Gunneries ' ' were victorious.
The beautiful drive home was tinged with something
On the Lake Road.
of regret that our delightful day would soon be at an end;
all too quickly we found ourselves at Ingleside again,
happy and tired, and ready to drift off into dreamland.
Let me add just here that the third game of the rubber
took place on neutral ground June fifth. Only the lucky
Hickory Hearth Crickets witnessed it, but the red and
52 INGLESIDE LOG.
white won, and all Ingleside — except a very few — rejoiced
with the ' ' Rectories. ' '
Anyone entering- the " Overlook " on the morning of
the twenty-second would have needed no words to explain
that something unusual was to take place. Girls were
busy everywhere and the result was seen, when in the
afternoon, our many friends gathered in the prettily dec-
orated parlor where our class colors, "the blue and
white," were so much in evidence. Unfortunately, one
of our household was taken off to the Bobolink by
Mother Hunt, there to compare the attractions of the
Grant procession and the Senior Tea.
Poor Gussie ! We did miss you, and we have missed
you ever since !
From three to six Mrs. Taylor, assisted by the mem-
bers of the class, received. " All went merry as a mar-
riage bell," but with the pleasure w 7 e enjoyed was a
mingled sadness, for the thought wouid come, that this
was the last time we as a class, would ever entertain at
Another last glimpse of our dear little cottage — The
Auction — when our ' ' lares and penates ' ' were dragged
forth, and the pitiless auctioneer, with true Western
energy and originality, knocked them down to the high-
"What is so rare as a day in June,
Then if ever come perfect days."
Sunday, June sixth, fully verified the poet's de-
scription, and everything seemed striving to make
beautiful the welcome to the ' ' Old Girls ' ' who had
INGLE SIDE LOG.
come the evening previous. At 10.45 we assembled at
the ' ' Little Church on the Hill. ' ' The Seniors occupied
the front seats with ' ' the girls of other years, ' ' and the
undergraduates were in the usual places behind them.
The line had been lengthened that morning by the
" Days," and thus all Ingleside (for not even the Bobo-
link could boast an occupant) were present at this ser-
Favorite hymns were chosen, and canticles, which all
knew and loved. One after another, voices fell in till
54 INGLE SIDE LOG.
every one seemed to be singing, and the little church
was filled with harmony. The responses were full of
feeling too, and the intense stillness when Mr. Draper
preached the baccalaureate sermon showed the reverence
and interest of all, but only those for whom they were
especially intended could appreciate the depth and earnest-
ness of his last few words. In the afternoon we came
together again for Evensong, but I think perhaps this
beautiful service is better without description. Words
could not do it justice, and we Ingleside girls have
grown to love it so dearly that I think wherever we may
be, the memory of it will be always with us.
Alas, for human hopes ! On Monday the .sky which the
day before had been so bright and clear was overcast, and
the Pansy Tea on the lawn at Hickory Hearth, to which
we had all been looking forward with so much pleasure,
was necessarily held in the house. The Secretary's
Report was read, giving the list of officers for the Pansy
Garten in Ninety-eight. The Treasurer gave a report
of which the Pansies may well be proud, and then Mrs.
Black read the record for the year. Not even the rain
outside could dampen the enthusiasm of that moment,
for a member of the Class of '97 for a second time won
the sweepstakes prize, and our Denver girl was applauded
to the echo. A delicious tea followed, and we soon
dispersed as many duties called us elsewhere.
On Tuesday morning a large number assembled in
the Drill Room for the Musicale, and warmly appreciated
the efforts of those who took part. The selections were
difficult and admirably rendered. In the evening the
INGLE SIDE LOG. 55
room was crowded to its utmost capacity, for much
mystery had surrounded the English play , and mystery
always arouses curiosity. The " Chronothanatoletron "
merited the many praises bestowed upon it, and a very
appreciative audience greeted and applauded the actors.
On Wednesday morning the Gymnastic Drill took place
and was watched with absorbing interest. Many of the
exercises were intricate, and the gracefulness and pre-
cision with which they were executed was much com-
mended. Three of the girls were considered equally
worthy of the prize offered by Mr. Robert C. Black of
New York. Consequently lots were drawn, and, of
course, the "Overlooks" were happy, when Augusta
White secured the lucky number. Much enthusiasm
ensued, and class and house cries resounded on all sides.
In the afternoon the Alumnae Dinner took place. Un-
fortunately a description is impossible, as the requisite
facts have been refused to "outsiders," but of the '97
Class Dinner, which occurred at the same time, too much
cannot be said. Long will it live in the memory of those
who were there. That class prophecy so cleverly fore-
telling the future destiny of each member and the
souvenir so suggestive of that future — the toasts — but
space forbids me to go further ; to imagination I must
leave the rest.
Evening brought the Senior Musicale. The program
was exceptionally fine. The girls played entirely from
memory, and again '97 was proud of the Class work.
The singing was also unusually good, and pleasantly
varied the instrumental portion of the program.
56 INGLESIDE LOG.
Thursday — Commencement Day, and to some of us,
our Graduation Day — came at last. Again the Drill
Room was filled with expectant girls, and promptly at
twelve the long line of white-robed maidens, preceded by
the faculty, filed into the room and took the seats re-
served for them in front of the stage.
The essays were bright and cleverly written. Miss
White, in her happy reference to our class-history, brought
back many memorable incidents of school-life. The
Chorus Class sang several pretty selections, and then,
one by one, the members of the Graduating Class stepped
upon the platform and received from Mr. Draper their
diplomas. The Hon. M. W. Seymour delivered a short
address full of thought and earnestness. It could not but
produce a lasting impression, and will always be remem-
bered when we think of our Graduation Day.
At five o'clock every one assembled at Hickory Hearth
for the Tree Exercises. Each class gathered about its
own tree. The Tree Song was sung, the new links were
added to the Alumnae Chain, and the Alumnae sang their
song with the new verse for '96. Then a member of the
Class of '93 stepped forward, and kindly returned to us
our '97 Flag which the Alumnae, lacking other decora-
tions, had appropriated to grace their Dinner. Of course,
it was a matter of congratulation that we had been able
thus to add to their enjoyment, and the banner, always
precious, became doubly valuable because of the charm-
iug legends they had inscribed upon it. The L,oving Cup
went round, and the remaining contents were poured
upon the roots of " '97." Then we all went down to
INGLE SIDE LOG. 57
the little church for our farewell service, and thus the
Commencement Exercises came to an end, except for the
happy few so fortunate as to be included in the invitations
for the dance that evening, given by Mrs. Black in honor
of the Class of '97.
It was a merry night, but when the morning came a
very sad crowd of girls stood together for the last time at
the " Overlook." There were no farewell shouts, as we
meant there should have been. A sound very like a sob
was in the air, and though the sunlight streamed over
hill and valley, it seemed dark to us. We could not
smile, and we were very quiet as we pressed each others'
hands and mournfully went away.
So ends the story of '97.
Auck Bostwick Buck, '97.
The Pansy Garten,
ANOTHER school-year has passed, and
in the course of events many things
have taken place within the Pansy Garten.
When we returned in the Fall our newly
elected officers assumed their responsi-
bilities, and sadly missing the old faces, we
all began our work. Just what that work
has been we cannot say. Now as the clos-
ing days have come, we look back a little
regretfully, and wonder if the Pansy has
been the power in our school we mean to
make it !
An unusual proportion of the graduating
class have been "within the walls," and
the Garten has now a "local habitation,"
as well as " a name," for this year the
Pansies have come into possession of a room
entirely their own ; and on the same bal-
cony, where in 1892 the Pansy Garten
started, and the seven celebrated Charter
members signed their names, the Garten met
in the moonlight this year for their farewell
Geheimness. For the old ' ' Wigwam ' ' has
traveled up the hill, and settled itself cosily
among the evergreens on Hickory Hearth,
and now above the noisy bowling-alleys we
INGLES! HE LOG. 59
discuss our mysteries, find rest and refreshment beyond
the ken of the ordinary mortal, and a fascinating center,
dear to the hearts of " the elect."
But five new girls have been taken ' ' over the wall ' '
since October, '97, while many have been eligible. These
five have proved themselves worthy of the Pansy
name, and why there have been no more initiations is a
secret known only to the Garten. Therefore, my inquir-
ing friends, do not let your curiosity lead you to question
further. Had you been on Hickory Hearth on any of the
five memorable occasions you might have heard many and
awful sounds, but no solution of the problem is offered.
To quiet your nerves, however, we will say that the vic-
tims escaped without serious injuries, and of course are
ready to accept your congratulations.
The charitable work undertaken by the Garten this
year was the making of aprons, petticoats, etc. , for Mr.
Hunter's mission store at Raleigh, North Carolina. We
rather pride ourselves on our power in the " needle line."
Why really, you could tell at a glance the intention of
each article. Sometimes the sleeves waved defiance
toward the back of the garment, when they should have
tended stylishly toward the front, and occasionally the
bands on those endless petticoats made ' ' geometrical
revolutions ' ' that even the Seniors could not comprehend,
but the stitches - oh ! well, verily — ' ' A thing of beauty
is a joy forever ! "
The Pansy Benefit was a most charming program,
consisting of recitations by Miss Hilliard, of New York, and
was much enj oyed by all. The money which was obtained
was used to increase our yearly offering to the Church, this
year a substantial set of choir stalls in solid mahogany.
Our last Fireside meeting was held at Lazy Lodge,
Lake Waramaug, where, as usual, a most tempting
lunch was served on our arrival. As the weather was
lovely, the drive there and back was delightful, and tak-
ing all in all the day proved to be one full of pleasure.
Luncheon at I^azy I,odge.
Our Gesells are widely scattered now, three being across
the ocean. Now and then we hear faint rumors of en-
gagements, and some have already entered the holy
bonds of matrimony.
A delightful scheme is the Midwinter Geheimness to
welcome the Gesells, to be held each year in February.
Kven as we clasp each others hands in the farewell Grip,
we seem to hear that welcome — we — who in a few days
are to be school girls no longer. Neither snow drifts
nor wintry winds shall daunt us, when the bugle-call for
the return is sounded !
Pansy Day, June seventh, saw the election of officers
May they do their work as well
and bear as truly in their hearts
for the ensuing year,
as have those of '97
the Pansy Motto :
' ' Tapfer ernst und treu. ' '
SUSIK I*. NKlvSON.
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
Song of the Crickets.
THE days are chilly,
The nights grow cold,
The leaves are turning,
' The year is old '■; '. :
Then come Crickets, with their chirp!
On the gray Hearthstone they begin
Chirp! chirp! in the old Oak Hall,
Chirp! chirp! till the shadows fall,
Chirp! chirp! 'tis the same old song,
Glad and merry the whole day long.
THE CRICKET SONG.
S. S. B.
EDWIN G. CLEMENCE.
*Ped. *j? edi ^3
The days are chil-ly, the nights grow cold, The leaves are turn-ing, the
=4r^= =^^==]q=^__^ — l=F=F-l — I— I — *-=l=l=q=*=J=l=
Z*^=^Z ^-^ | i zpz
year is old ; Then come crickets with their chirp! chirp! chirp! chirp !
THE CRICKET SONG.
On the grey hearth-stone they begin their work —
p nt. ten.
in the old oak hall
chirp! till the
shad - ows
chirp! to the same old
^ J -
Glad and mer - ry the whole day long.
-?* — ■
68 INGLESIDE LOG.
A northeast storm, and
The fire burns bright,
The big log crackles,
The Hearth is light.
Rafters ring with the shouts of girls,
The wild wind whistles and the snow cloud whirls.
Chirp! chirp! while the kettle sings,
Chirp! chirp! while the laughter rings,
Chirp! chirp! till the tale is told,
And the Hearth grows cheery as the night grows
A Slumber Fairy, in
The bursting sparks!
Chirps grow sleepy, the Hearth grows dark,
Bright heads droop in the drowsy gloom,
And a stillness deep fills the shadowy room.
Chirp! chirp! in a quiet hush,
Chirp! chirp! while the glad thoughts rush —
Thoughts of home, like a summer stream,
Gleam and glisten in the maiden's dream.
The big log blackens,
The fire is done,
Buds are bursting,
The June days come.
Then the dear, dear Crickets sing their farewell
And the Hearth is dreary when the days are long,
Chirp! chirp! in a far off home,
Chirp! chirp! while the mem' ries come,
Mem'ries sweet of an old Oak Hall,
When the world seemed waiting for the Cricket's
October to Thanksgiving.
PIKE'S PEAK fading away in the distance, brown
prairies stretching ahead, and on the eastward-
bound express, with her face pressed against the window-
pane, sits a maiden all forlorn. With an aching heart
she takes her last look at the twinkling lights of the little
city close against its mighty sentinel, the train swings
round a curve, and the Colorado home is but a memory.
A confused glimpse of Boston, with its historic associa-
tions, the seaside, and vast New York, and the "merry
little mountain maid ' ' steps off the Berkshire train into a
sleepy New England village. In the twilight of the Oc-
tober evening she catches but a hurried impression of the
old village street and the quiet cottages on Terrace Place,
when an iron-bound door swings open, and she stands
Rex, of Hickory Hearth.
face to face with • ' Hickory Hearth ' ' ! Her home it
must be for the winter, a prison, in a way, it had seemed
when in the distance. Now a wide hospitable hearth-
stone breaks upon her view, a big oak hall and stairway
lighted by the blazing log, a hostess with a cordial greet-
ing, and a beautiful white setter who tucks his nose into
her hand in friendly welcome. The new ' ' Cricket ' ' has
a queer feeling as she sees her room, as she dines and talks,
and then sleeps in the new quarters, a feeling only, for she
is too tired for thought, and the first night slips by.
Breakfast in a colonial dining-room, where she is
placed opposite a wide western window and expected to
enthuse over a view of "New Milford's Mountains."
Mountains indeed ! With Pike's Peak fresh in her mem-
From the Dining-room Window.
ory they seem but little ' ' foot-hills, ' ' and who can be
impressed by a row of foot-hills, pretty though they be ?
A day of glimpses and introductions, and in the even-
ing a crowd — a host of girls all coming at once, all
eager to welcome the strangers to Ingleside. Night
comes again, and with a brain dizzy with many new faces
and names, she falls into a disturbed slumber, broken
INGLE SIDE LOG.
by visions of home and the dear familiar sights. Colorado
waterfalls are rushing through her brain and Rex, the
setter dog, seems mysteriously to change into a well-
known western ' ' Burro ' ' she has left behind. A be-
wildering mass of faces surge in a restless wave before
her, and a pile of names lie at her feet, while with angry
gestures the faces demand their names, and she struggles
vainly to connect them ! The dream is terrible, and with
a sigh of relief consciousness
returns, and she awakens to
enter upon the duties that are
to be hers through the long
Many pleasant times came
between October third and
Thanksgiving. The bonfire,
the germ an, the Hallowe'en
party, the first fireside, the pic-
nic at the lake, and innumerable
talks and walks, bicycle rides,
and drives, with new-found
friends. These, with all the girls at Ingleside, while in
the Crickets' own domain, grew T up a quiet home life.
The third story of Hickory Hearth became really theirs,
with its pretty white bedrooms and the Delft blue study
all their own. Here they did their work when school
hours were over — here they chirped in solo or chorus,
11 it la Fra?icaise" with Mile., and later, after good-
nights were said , gathered about the table, ' ' en dishabille, ' '
and ate gingerbread and drank Jersey milk.
The Colorado "Burro."
INGLESIDE LOG. 75
Down stairs, the Crickets four, became an important
part of the Hickory Hearth family. Guests came ; they
received and helped to entertain them ; the travel class and
the bowling parties occupied many of their evenings, and
there were quiet nights, too, when the wind blew, and the
rain fell, and they sat about and on the big hearthstone
and listened to some story or some poem while the
hickory logs blazed. Sunday evenings, with the kettle
boiling and the chafing dish in the foreground, not
always the four Crickets and the Mistress of the Hearth
alone, but a cozy circle and a buzz of happy voices
often. Always everywhere the " Chirp ! Chirp ! " of the
Crickets who made Hickory Hearth their home. So
passed the first division of the school year, the first
' ' Chirp ' ' of the Crickets, and on the afternoon of
November twenty-third all Ingleside met at the depot
to say as affectionate farewells as if the parting were
to be for years instead of days.
RKGINA K. IyUNT.
Thanksgiving to Christmas.
A IX through the warm Autumn the Hickory Hearth
Crickets chirped and chirped. Sometimes the song
was merry, sometimes a little sad, a queer little minor
chirp with a thought of home in it, but on the whole we
were a merry quartet even in those first days.
A Colorado Waterfall.
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
INGLESIDE LOG. 79
The weeks we had thought would be so long slipped
by and the Thanksgiving holidays were at hand. Miss
Hill replied to questions innumerable as to ways and
means of travel, and after the usual hurry, bustle, and
good-bys, Ingleside was once more restored to its cus-
tomary quiet. An unusual quiet, for three days of holi-
day life had begun, and we who did not go home,
Crickets included, settled down to enjoy together a good
time at the school.
Thanksgiving day dawned brightly and would have
been perfect but for the lack of snow devoutly desired
by the southern girls, who seem to think we should live
in perpetual snow banks. Many were the boxes received,
and what good things came out of them ! Real old-
fashioned cooking from the land of Dixie, such fruit
cake, and beaten biscuit as only a, southern mammy knows
how to make, and a variety of goodies from all the dis-
The joy of being able to feast and give "spreads"
only the school girl knows. As for candy the mails were
full of boxes, and Miss Rinker seemed to be constantly
distributing boxes of Huyler. One does not know what
might have happened had not Mother Hunt come to the
rescue from time to time, with her careful restrictions as
The dear old Bobolink held one girl who was too ill to
go home, but when her mother arrived to care for her we
did not pity Jane any more.
Mrs. Black kindly put the bowling alley at our dis-
posal; there fun raged fast and furious, even the teachers
8o INGLESIDE LOG.
j oined in the games and rej oiced over numerous ' ' strikes ' '
and "spares." Evening after evening we played, and
then weary, but happy, we wended our way down the
In spite of the merry times it was hard for the one
poor Cricket, " left," in a way, deserted by her sisters,
and forced to seek warmth and society at Ingleside. For
the Cricket family like best to chirp on their own Hearth-
stone, and usually go down to Ingleside for study and
class- work only. But, at last, Monday came, and Mrs.
Black and the girls came back, the big log crackled in
the fire-place on the Hill, and we were all at home again.
Then came weeks of study. Snow and ice came, too.
The river froze over and the skating-pond, and the
Crickets had special privileges in skating parties under
the care of Mr. Draper.
We remember a " fireside " one cold December night,
with a bright fire and a bright program, too, and we re-
member visitors and bowling parties, and quiet little din-
ners at which the Cricket family assisted.
A last year's Cricket returned for a visit, and there
was great rejoicing at " the Hearth." Even the horses
in the stable seemed glad, and Rex deserted his mistress
for a time, to give her welcome.
One sleighride stands out as a never-to-be-forgotten
pleasure. A large sleigh, with a strong team of grays,
and our faithful John as driver. Eight girls and a
teacher, and a bewildering jingle of bells. A white night,
with a white full moon in the heavens, and a white world
Across the river, and over miles of hard-packed road
we went, through the Merry all woods, and back by
Boardman's bridge. Many were the songs that were
Cricket of '96.
sung and the stories told. After leaving the girls at
Ingleside, the Crickets drove up the hill, and the door
opening, presented one of those pictures that neither pen
nor brush can portray. The lights were out, and a
wood-fire on the Hearth bade us welcome. Shadows
and streaks of firelight stretched over the dark oak
hall. There was luncheon and hot cocoa, and we were
warm and merry. A strange witchery is thrown over
our friends and us by our glorious fire, and many
pleasant memories cluster about the Cricket's fireside.
Wintry days sped on, with work and pleasure, and as
the Holly, Hemlock, and I^aurel began to pile up around
the Church door, and the Christmas carols and the
Christmas chimes were in the air, vacation came, and the
second chirp was over.
Adelaide K. Richmond.
Chirp the Third
Christmas to Easter.
AFTER the vigorous chirping of two such competent
Crickets, I am afraid my feeble effort will not be
heard, but if from among the clovers you hear a tiny
voice whispering, please listen, for it is Cricket number 3,
and if you hear me chirping the same tune in a different
key, oh take pity on me and pass it over, for they took
all the thunder and left the lightning for me and I cannot
84 INGLESIDE LOG.
even catch it long enough to get a ' ' kodac. '' The others
chirped of our life on the hearthstone with the red glare
of the firelight. I will take you up the stairs one turn
to the left and up another flight and you are under the
soft rays of " the moon." It is a big electric light in an
opaque shade, but it is called " the moon," and its light
is controlled by us and the electric light man, for we call
over the banister to the last ' ' Cricket ' ' up the stairs,
" Turn off the moon, please," and with her assistance the
moon goes out and the select four who form our
' ' Krickets Klub ' ' go down the hall and into that awe-
inspiring room and partake of milk and our honored
friends " Saltines." Did you ever eat a saltine ? Well,
it is an oblong cracker very dry, crumbly, and salty, and
one saltine makes one so thirsty that the generous pitcher
of milk is greatly diminished before some one says, ' ' I
can't eat another one, girls, I am going to bed, come on."
No one pays any attention, particularly her room-mate,
who pretends not to observe her stately and deeply injured
manner of leaving, then with a weary yawn goes another
"Cricket," and two " Hickets " so called, who love to
hear their own voices lifted in musical duet, stay behind.
Now that those two same Crickets who chirp first even
here, are gone, we have our chance and our tongues,
silent perforce in their presence, start ; and our affairs,
the school affairs, and who knows but your affairs, are
most solemnly and thoroughly discussed. But we are only
human Crickets (though it has been hinted that our habit
of sitting up late has been owlish and wicked in the
extreme) and at last we uncurl from our unartistic but
INGLE SIDE LOG. 85
very comfortable position, turn out the light and leave
the cozy little club, with its walls covered with brilliant
posters, tennis rackets, fencing foils, and all manner of
charming decorations. The little colored boy whose hat
when lifted discloses a cracker jar ; Napoleon, the pin
The Krikets' Klub.
cushion ; and the skull of that same glorious person when
he was a baby ; are left in the darkness. My last glance
rests lovingly on a very small green shoot in a very large
red earthenware pot called half in courtesy but more in
chilling sarcasm (perhaps that is why it doesn't grow)
86 INGLESIDE LOG.
" Varina's Orange Tree." I am proud of that orange
tree! I ordered it from one of those fascinating but
deceptive flower books, and the dear little thing came in
a roll of brown cardboard just like a newspaper ; and some
day I expect to pick oranges from it and I am going to
eat them right before the eyes of those same scoffing
I always fall asleep as soon as my head touches the
pillow, so it seems as if I had been there but a second
when I am conscious of a thundering noise; I awake with
a start to find the maid knocking gently and repeating in
a persuasive but at the same time firm voice : "It's time
to get up, young ladies, it's time to get up." " What
time is it ? " I ask, and then wait to hear her say : ' 'Twenty
minutes past seven." "Well — er — what time do we
have breakfast," and poor Gussie answers just as she has
answered all winter on these occasions : " Eight o'clock,
miss," and then that patient girl goes across the hall to
repeat the same conversation with another sleepy Cricket.
How we get ready and rush downstairs is all merged in a
drowsy mist, but I do remember and I do not think any
of us could ever forget, the bright good morning and the
sweet smile that is always ready alike, for the good little
Cricket who is down on time and the one who dashes in
just as the last sweet but warning tone of our chimes dies
out with a little sob on the end for the late ones.
We have a board walk of our own that leads down in
the direction of school, but does not bridge over about a
hundred yards of the muddiest mud it has ever been my
lot to meet Well, to begin at the beginning, which is
the house, we start out for school with a terrible wind
simply shoving us down the hill. The board walk is cov-
ered with frost and the sun quite ignores it, until later. I
have heard of feet unwilling to go to school, but they did
not belong- to Hickory Hearth Crickets, for though our
hearts cling madly to the warm hearthstone, our feet
After the Mud is Gone.
cling madly to nothing, and one able to walk in safety
down that slippery path is simply a human fly ! The
mud before-mentioned is now to be overcome. Ton upon
ton of caramels nicely softened, with all the sticking qual-
ity remaining in, is the only thing I can think of to com-
pare it to; if that mud was dried and then sifted, you could
make a fortune selling the rubber shoes you would find
Then comes the Senior walk, which means another
mild slide, and you are comparatively safe, for school is
almost reached. Do you wonder that the Crickets dread
the walk to school ?
The happenings there do not belong in a Cricket's
Chirp, for a Cricket's story should be of doings on the
hill-top only; a song of ''Cheer" mingled with the
crackling of the logs upon the hearth.
What befell us in the months allotted me would fill
more space than is allowed, if I wrote the quiet story of
our quiet home life ; and as I think it over at the end, I
say, with Feuillet,
" Hereux ceux qui ti out pas d'histoire ! "
Varina H. D. Hayks.
Chirp the Fourth
Easter to Commencement.
HIS, the last Chirp of the Crickets,
has been the busiest, happiest,
yet at times the saddest of all.
We returned after the Easter vaca-
find Hickory Hearth and Ingle-
at their prettiest. At first
it was more like fall than
spring, but the days gradually
grew warmer, dinner on the
porch became a possible pleas-
ure, the grass turned
green and began to grow, and John, with the new lawn
mower, was one of the Crickets' entertainments. So
many things happened in these few weeks that it is
useless to attempt to mention all.
All the Crickets, like every one else, enjoyed the
Pansy Benefit, which was the first entertainment given
Trying the I^awn Mower.
after vacation. Then came the closing dance of the
Dancing School, in which at least two of the " Crick-
ets " were deeply interested. Following that, the day
spent at Lake Waramaug. It was this Cricket's first
glimpse of " Lazy Lodge," and what a beautiful glimpse
it was ! The dear little red cottage nestling among the
INGLES IDE LOG.
trees, on the bank of the lake, which winds and curves
almost like a river !
It is too bad not to be able to mention in detail all the
exciting baseball games at which we have assisted ;
especially the picnic- game at Washington, when Mr.
Watching the Game.
Everest kindly entertained us. But the praises of these
will undoubtedly be sung by others, as these were joys in
which all Ingleside participated, and were not the
Crickets' especial property.
In fact the Crickets' life during this last ' ' Chirp ' '
has been more with the other girls than before. We have
had, not fewer joys at home, but more abroad.
Examinations were ' ' too numerous to mention ' ' dur-
ing the week before Commencement, and many an even-
ing did the weary Crickets burn the midnight oil. For
although Ingleside maidens may laugh, Crickets do study
In the Twilight.
Commencement time and ' ' Alumnae ' ' came with a rush
— but even in the general hurry we Crickets had one
quiet evening, which I am sure none of us will ever for-
get. Then, in the Sunday twilight, we formed ties which
I hope may never be broken, and with the memory of
the loving kindness and helpfulness of our dear ' ' Mistress
of the Hearth ' ' may we go forth faithful to our watch-
word of ' ' Cheer. ' ' One of the wonders of this spring-
time has been the clover. Acres of it in full bloom ;
such gorgeous blossoms as can be found nowhere else
abounded on the Hickory Hearth fields. We gathered
Through the Clover.
it, we painted it, we waded knee deep through it, and
we chose it as the Crickets' flower.
Seven of the old graduates came the Saturday before
Commencement, and the Hearth was filled with laughter,
mingled with the groans of one poor ' ' Alumna ' ' who
94 INGLESIDE LOG.
was forced to write a poem. Then it commenced to rain,
and unable to alter the weather we wandered disconso-
lately about in "Tailor-suits" and rubbers, instead of
floating gayly, as we had intended, in our organdies and
The entertainments of Commencement passed off nicely,
and every one was happy, except perhaps the Seniors,
who could not but think how soon they were to leave
their Alma Mater and their Overlook. However, even
the Seniors brightened up at the dance Thursday night,
which was a jolly ending to a merry week.
On Friday all the visitors at the Hearth and one
Cricket left, and the other three Crickets mournfully
gathered together their precious possessions and, one by
one, sorrowfully went away.
Thus ends the Cricket Chirps for '96-' 97.
How much, though, has been left unsaid !
All the happenings on the third floor and around the
Hearth Stone could never be chronicled anywhere, save
in the Crickets' memories.
We four, two good Crickets and two naught}^ ones,
that have lived through the year so happily, will always
have little things to remember, which can only be inter-
esting to the members of the Hearth family.
Oh what jolly times my naughty sister ' ' Hicket ' ' and
I have had, in the little den, after the two sleepier and
wiser Crickets had sought sweet slumber. Then for fear
of the warning voice of Mademoiselle, saying, ll A/lez vuus
concher, Mesdemoiselles" we have in low tones told
stories weird, funny, and otherwise, and invented witty
sayings which would undoubtedly be appreciated if
Our poor room-mates, I fear, suffered in the cause of
brilliancy, being unable to sleep while we were happy.
But then, Adelaide revenged herself most gloriously by
rising with the sun in the morning, and like the lark,
' ' All good things must have an end, ' ' and so our
pleasant life at Hickory Hearth has ended for this year.
But let us hope that next winter our old haunts will
know us once more, and "Rex" and his mistress will
welcome us with one-half the pleasure with which we
will greet them again. Sarah Upson Goodrich.
Crickets in the Sun.
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
Flight of the Birds.
Over the breeze from the waving
Over the whisper of nodding
Along with the scent of the
Above the drone of the busy
Coming from nests that have
sheltered so calmly
Ere seeking new clime for
their life and light,
Is borne to our ears as we
stop to listen
The song of our birds as
they take their flight
FAREWELL, farewell, O Cottage !
Thy brief, bright day has died.
We march with sound of triumph
To a new Ingleside.
And those who come hereafter
Shall never stand without
Thy doors and to thy glory
Uplift their glad'ning shout.
INGLE SIDE LOG.
Nor never shall they linger
With hearts that loved thee well,
The story of their Cottage,
Its woes and joys to tell.
May those who dwelt within thee
Have lives as bright and free
As the old happy moments
They spent content with thee.
Then farewell, farewell, Cottage !
Our loving tribute calls
Before we part forever
One blessing on thy walls.
Saixy Petkrs, '93.
ROUND its broad sides the vines, caressing, cling;
Faint, 'neath its roof, echoes of laughter sing,
Tuning the memories Time's children bring,
Seven swift years.
Dusk all around, and dusk above, below,
Save where, to westward, hills their shadows throw
Clear-cut and dark against the after glow.
Seven swift years.
INGLE SIDE LOG.
Peer through the open door ! Do visions rise ?
Sacred to me are some, and mine the eyes
That may alone behold what therein lies —
Seven swift years.
Other glad scenes, old mate, you may recall.
We may not see the same, yet will the Hall
Find in its depths a nook, a place for all.
Seven swift years.
Tapping of dancing feet that mount the stair,
Scratching of pens — visions of faces fair —
Byes, blue, gray, dark, lit by the ingle flare.
Seven swift years.
Voices that rise and fall beneath the eaves,
Clink of the glass from yonder room — the leaves
Rustling — each sound a hundred fancies weaves —
Seven swift years.
Seven swift years, and each their changes wrought
Within this house, but even ever brought
Unto its breast one peaceful, changeless thought —
Seven swift years.
All in the twilight soft, the darkness gray,
While anthems speeded fair the parting day,
Reverent, kneeling maidens used to pray,
Seven swift years.
INGLES IDE LOG. 103
Ay, let the Hall such vision sacred hold,
Known to each heart its walls did e'er enfold,
Known unto all that here the hours have told
Seven swift years.
Now for the good, the glad, all that befell
Hours of the growing time in which we dwell
When all is young, thank God, and so farewell !
Seven swift years.
Jkan IyKE Hunt, '94.
BRIGHT' NING, cheering, whate'er befalling,
Studio ' ' times ' ' and ways
Come to us as we stand recalling
All of the dear old days.
Days, dear house, when you held art's treasures,
Days that recall sweet fireside pleasures,
Days that hath held Life's tuneful measures,
Mem'ry will hold always.
INGLE SIDE LOG. 105
Sounds of mirth, of youth's joy and laughter,
Echoes of girlish din,
Floated out by each beam and rafter
From joyous hearts within.
Sounds of the life we were always hearing.
Sounds of the loudest, bravest cheering,
Sounds of the voices with naught of fearing,
Touches and makes us kin.
Though we Studio girls may wander
Over Earth's broad estates,
Far off now in the mansions yonder
One of us watches, waits.
Still the long years will be only binding,
Still the new scenes will be only finding,
Still the new life will be only minding,
Studio days and mates.
K. W., '93.
A LITTLE house
With lots of sun—
A little hall
With hammock hung-
Six little rooms
Held loyal hearts —
A little teacher
Took our parts —
INGLESIDE LOG. T07
A little nook
We called our den —
A little clan
That ruled the pen —
A little sheet
We called " The Sparks "—
A little work
To raise our marks —
A little group
" Right up to date "
Of ninety-eight —
A little name
Remains of thee
Stamped on our hearts —
Carounk Roberts, '98.
LONELY, sad, deserted Robin,
No more troops of girlish figures,
No more sounds of careless laughter,
No more shoutings, no more music,
Break the quiet that surrounds you.
Gone are all your happy tenants,
Even Ninety-six has left you,
Ninety-six your firm adherent,
With her strident O-we-wi-wow !
INGLESIDE LOG. 109
With the kitten for her mascot,
With her fun and with her fancies,
With her work and with her worries
Ninety-six, alas ! has left you !
Memories only cluster round you,
Fill the empty rooms and porches,
Floating down the hall and stairways ;
Memories of faithful friendships
Here begun and here cemented ;
Memories of midnight mischief
Here conceived, here executed.
Sadder memories of partings,
Partings it may be forever !
Nothing left of all but memories,
Do you wonder that we murmur,
Robin, you are sad, deserted,
Ivonely, and no more the Robin.
Daisy Saii^r, '96.
HERE happy groups of maidens strayed,
Where merry daughters worked and played,
Where laughter rung
When life was young,
Where aims began, and hopes were laid.
Where each and all must take a part,
Where muses met of ev'ry art,
The first to meet,
The last to greet,
The children of its hearth and heart.
There was each much enduring book,
There lay thy mystic realm, O cook !
There ev'ry day,
In brave array,
Our troops were drilled, with martial look.
There, when each fleeting year was o'er,
We crowded to the big Dutch door,
A happy throng,
With now'rs and song,
To say ' ' Godspeed ' ' to those before.
O " Iyink" that bound, in charmed chain,
Each unto all, thou shalt remain
A link of gold,
A link to hold
Thy children, when they come again.
J. Iv. H.
HOUSE of refuge, where
Found gentle healing and
That wrung the heart in homesick
Found peace and comfort, quiet,
Where little cups of yellow hue
That alternated with the blue
Held bitter doses oft, but then
The ones that made us well again.
That house where aching heads were spared,
Where sprained ankles were repaired,
The link that held us fast, I think,
To life and health—" The Bobolink."
Dear ' ' Mother Hunt ' ' reigned here
From very first. Her gentle mien,
Her kindly touch, her soothing
Caused homesick maidens to
Who else could so allay our fears,
Who else could quench our home-
sick tears !
She laughed when life
seemed all a song,
She soothed when every-
thing went wrong,
A pilot 'midst our rocks and
One ever ready for her girls,
Though oft they came, as
was their wont ;
In short, who was like
O, girls, when now the tale is done,
When you are going one by one,
When life holds for you thoughts and looks,
Something beside "exams"
The world's great portal open wide,
No gates with gold and purple tied,
When life seems new, when
life seems strange,
When there are fields of wider
May Fortune give two priceless
A panacea for all wounds,
Which cause the head and
heart to sink :
A ' ' Mother Hunt ' ' and a
Edith Warnkr, '93-
O VALIANT Cuckoo ! 'Neath whose walls
y In younger days we rested,
Thy mem'ry green shall ever be
Both fresh and unmolested.
Thou wast our home, Oh, cottage dear,
To which we turned in pleasure,
And sorrow did we ever share,
Though not in such great measure ;
Except when other taller maids
Made us feel most dejected,
By calling thee the " Infants' Home,"
But lime has that corrected.
'Twas here the Pansies blossomed first,
Here came unhappy debtors;
'Twas here we talked with distant friends,
And here received our letters.
And now, " O little Cuckoo house,"
By faithful John defended,
Thy children throng to say farewell,
Thy noble mission ended.
Throughout our earthly journeyings,
No matter where we all be,
Thy praise shall never leave our tongues,
Our hearts shall always laud thee.
Sophik Bouchkr, '98.
41 The Overlook."
UR hearts are filled with
As here we stand this tenth of
And echoes of the past ring clear
Iyike harmonies of some sweet
INGLESIDE LOG. 119
With us began, with us doth end,
The hist'ry of thy senior ties.
We christened thee ' ' The Overlook ' ' ;
With our farewell, the title dies.
Bright pictures of the life with thee
Are held and treasured every one,
By ten, who know and rev'rence well,
Thy worth, that is surpassed by none.
And so, O house of " Ninety-seven,"
That stands and overlooketh those
Who dwell below in meek estate,
We say farewell — thy portals close !
IsabkIv Nelson Smith, '97.
The Attic Studio,
SO much has been written about the Attic Studio, and
its charms and attractions have so often been de-
picted in poetry and prose, that another word on the sub-
ject seems quite unnecessary. Yet we are beginning to
realize, as time goes on, that the coming autumn, which
will bring so many changes in the life at Ingleside, will
witness among them the removal of the art-room from
the Bindestrich to the new school building.
There are many interesting nooks and pleasant cor-
ners among the cottages at Ingleside. But I think that
most of us will willingly admit that the Attic Studio
heads the list. Tucked away up beneath the eaves,
where the pattering of the rain makes sweet rhythm on
the roof, it commands a most beautiful view of the sur-
rounding hills. And with its low, sloping ceiling, its
queer, irregular shape, its shelves laden with unique and
jS H^R »f' (''JrmzMlL
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UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
INGLES IDE LOG.
interesting souvenirs of many lands, it calls forth the ad-
miration of the most casual visitor. From the exquisite
bits of rare old brass and bronze, each a gem in itself,
down to the grotesque little Chinese dolls, which lend a
dash of brilliant color to the scene, each object seems to
be set off to best possible advantage by its neighbor.
A new feature was introduced into the Studio shortly
after Christmas, the plan of working from draped models.
And what exciting times we had, not only in capturing
and persuading some unwary little boy or girl to pose
for us a couple of hours, but in inducing them by
various schemes and methods to come back again the
next day ! Peanuts, oranges, and sugar lumps, in
fact every toothsome article that is dear to the juvenile
INGLE SIDE LOG.
heart, we lavished upon them in dangerous profusion.
To unfold a darksome secret, that I hope you won't re-
peat, I have an idea that these showers of sweetmeats
had more to do with the repeated absence of our models
than all the other reasons and excuses combined.
In the morning still -life occupied our attention. We
ING L/C SIDE LOG. 125
drew all sorts of studies in which Miss Boyer's fascinat-
ing teapots and quaint little cups and saucers played an
important part. And occasionally, by way of variety,
we would turn our efforts to cast work, and attempt to
transfer the subtle smile and inscrutable expression of the
Unknown I^ady to our charcoal paper. Impossible task !
We found that we could not lift the impenetrable veil of
mystery that enveloped her, and that our black and
white sketches fell sadly short of being a likeness.
Prominent among the ' ' Shalt Nots ' ' of the Attic
Studio stood out the rule which forbade the distribution
of ' ' arranged ' ' still-life. Miss Buck shielded herself
behind the protecting power of this severe regulation
and painted the most tempting and alluring objects that
mind can conceive. Bottles of luscious green olives,
delicate lady -fingers, mandarins scattered carelessly
about, were placed in enticing positions before our long-
ing eyes. Of course we didn't break the eighth com-
mandment. But wasn't it funny how the olive bottle
became uncorked? (Needless to say, it must have un-
corked itself.) And how odd that those lady-fingers
should "silently steal away" when Miss Boyer's back
was turned ! Some things in this world cannot be ex-
plained — these among them.
Next year the cosy little Attic Studio, with all its
memories and associations, will be a thing of the past,
and the art-room at the new school will quite eclipse the
former in point of size and lighting. Of course the ad-
vantages of the beautiful new Studio are manifold, and
there is no doubt but that work may be carried on more
INGLE SIDE LOG. 127
favorably than hitherto. Yet the Attic Studio, with its
quaint nooks and crannies, its dim, mysterious corners,
its atmosphere of mingled work and pleasure, must ever
be dear to the hearts of those who spent many happy
hours within its walls.
Rak Mortimer Skymour.
The Evolution of Scottish Literature.
TRUER is it perhaps of Scottish literature than of
most others, that in its earliest state it has assumed
that literary form which we call the ballad ; the subjects
of which it treated being the knightly adventure, chival-
ric and wonderful achievements.
How familiar to us is the picture of the minstrel
wandering from court to court, inflaming the hearts of
the people with courage and patriotism, thus creating a
consciousness of national unity by one of the most potent
of all medieval influences — the ballad.
In the great halls of those baronial strongholds, be-
fore the assembled household, would they recite romantic
stories of love and war. And who can tell what youths
were inspired with thoughts of great and noble deeds,
that they too might accomplish and so immortalize their
names in song and history.
With the decay of chivalry the ballad commenced to
decline, but before its final downfall it reached the per-
fection of true feeling and sentiment in Scotland's
greatest lyric poet.
Though more than fifty years have passed away,
Burns' s poems still continue to be enjoyed notwithstand-
ing the wildest vicissitudes in which the poetic taste has
INGLESIDE LOG. 129
indulged. They are read more eagerly, more and more
extensively, not only by literary men but by all classes.
The sincerity and indisputable air of truth that prevades
his writings appeals to the people, for he does not draw
his inspirations from lands and scenes remote, but from
the daisy at his feet. Burns appealed to mankind not
only through his truth and sincerity, but because he in-
fused into his works humanity's deepest aspirations.
What a boon it would be to our own dear land had it
such a liberty bell as Burns to sing out the notes of free-
dom and quicken the pulse of patriotism in the American
breast. All the great monuments of literature are guide-
posts pointing to a golden beyond, to be reached through
the avenue of hope. For in no one does he believe there
is not that divine spark which is inspired to higher and
nobler works. And nowhere is the thought better ex-
pressed than in his poem " A man's a man for a' that."
As Burns reached the hearts of the people through the
divine gift of poesy, so Scott awoke a responsive echo
therein. He appealed to that which is elemental in the
human character, namely, the love of adventure and of
the story. Never until his time had the novel found its
way to the humble cottage as well as to the lordly castle.
But the Harp of the North was swept with so masterly
a touch that it found welcome entrance in every breast.
Since his time the novel has attempted to fathom almost
every subject of human interest. We have been sated
with the analytical, the metaphysical, and the psycho-
logical novel. The social problem has been discussed, and
the past and future scrutinized to the verge of weariness,
i 3 o INGLE SIDE LOG.
until we are ready to cry, Oh ! for a return to the tale of
The day is near at hand when literature must return
to the Greek love of truth and beauty. It must renounce
the artificial for that sweet simplicity which has made
the Greek literature immortal.
But not alone in the domain of romance have the
Scotch maintained a conspicuous place, but in that
literary form which we have been taught to denominate
the essay have they likewise made an indelible impres-
sion upon the mind of mankind.
Carlyle was a man often misjudged, but possessing
beneath a mask of sternness and indifference a noble
and fiery soul, and yet must we not admit that it is he
who has brought the essay to its highest point of perfec-
tion, and through its medium bequeathed to mankind
some of the noblest symphonies of thought? In the
" Sartor Resartus," under the disguise of a German phi-
losopher, and on the homely topic of the philosophy of
clothes, he has brought together much of the deepest
speculation, the finest poetry, and the wildest humor
which his or any other age has ever produced. It was
an attempt to give to mankind a clearer insight into the
wonderful possibilities of the human soul, and to empha-
size that same sentiment which permeates the poem of
Burns, already referred to, "A man's a man for a'
As regards history also, Carlyle has given us some-
thing absolutely unique. His history of the French Revo-
lution is a grand collection of historical pictures painted
INGLESIDE LOG. 131
in "fire and darkness," and may authentically be pro-
nounced the most lurid and vivid description of that
stupendous event which has ever been written.
Carlyle exerted an incalculable influence upon the
moral and intellectual destiny of the nineteenth century.
In the opinion of many he has given a new turn to the
whole of English thought and criticism and has imparted
to the art of writing a nobler tone, inspired into it a pro-
founder spirit. No one more than he can quicken the
impulses of the young, no one lead them to richer
A deep religious sentiment, a moral earnestness so
characteristic of the Scotch, pre-eminently pervades the
writings of Carlyle. For in the development of their
religious instinct may not the Scotch be allowed to rank
second only to the Hebrews? While this sentiment
shines forth in both Knox and Carlyle, in Scott and
Burns it was sweetened and refined by being blended with
the poetic element.
Among various reasons that may be adduced to explain
the potent influence of Scotch writers of to-day, may be
stated the fact that there has been on their part, either
consciously or unconsciously, a return toward that sim-
plicity and truthfulness which are the requisites of beauty
in style as in all things else.
In the literature of Scotland of to-day there is again
the tale of adventure and the simple expression of the
human heart in preference to the elaborate, illustrated so
well in the works of Andrew Lang, J. M. Barrie, Robert
Ivouis Stevenson, Ian Maclaren, Henry Drummond, and
132 INGLESIDE LOG.
others. Iyittle need be said in criticism of these writers,
for by their works they are being judged.
Some one has said ' ' I know of no man who has such
power of clutching the heart as Ian Maclaren," and in
those few lines is found the character of his writings.
And how dear, perhaps to every one of us, and dear
the wide world over, has become the name of Henry
Drummond, who has shed so much of sweetness and light
over the religious element in man, and of whom it may
be truly said, "he that turneth many to righteousness
shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. ' '
Charles Reade, who was a devoted admirer of the
Scotch and their literature, has said concerning them,
' ' They are icebergs with volcanoes underneath ; thaw the
Scotch ice, which is of the coldest, and you shall get to
the Scotch fires, warmer than any sun of Italy or Spain. ' '
Does not all this strikingly illustrate the fact that at
the bottom of all enduring work there must be a pro-
found, emotional sub-stratum — a heart as well as head ?
And it is because of the deep-seated character of the
emotional nature of the Scotch that they have accom-
plished so much.
Think for a moment what depth of feeling found ut-
terance in the rugged language of that man Carlyle.
Nor can I think of words either more vibrant with the
thought of this great Scotchman or more appropriate to the
present moment than these :
" It is to you, ye workers, that the whole world calls
for more work and noblemen. To make some nook of
God's creation a little fruitfuller, more worthy of God ;
INGLESIDE LOG. 133
oh, it is great, and there is no other greatness. All
martyrs and noblemen, and gods of one grand Host. Let
him who is not of it hide himself ; let him tremble for
himself : stars at every button cannot make him noble.
Will he not bethink himself ? he too, is needed in the
host ! It were so blessed, valiantly to take place, and
step in it, yea, thrice blessed for himself and for us all ! "
WinnibbIv Clarke; , '97.
KNTAIy ast igmatism we interpret as that defective
vision of the mind which from time immemorial
has hampered humanity in its struggle toward higher de-
velopment and larger realization.
We may regard it as a universal misfortune, one un-
avoidable and inborn in the temperament of mankind, and
a characteristic of that immaturity which the world is
striving to outgrow.
This it is which dulls the minds of men to such an ex-
tent that despite the fact that humanity, for thousands of
years, has been steadily gazing at its immeasurable sur-
roundings, it is still too blind to read in nature the simple
problem which must be written upon her countenance.
Veiled, mysterious, and unapproachable in her hazy sur-
roundings, she stands encircled by a throng of admirers,
like a Mohammedan maiden, who deigns to lift a thick-
ness of her drapery as a token of extreme favor only to
those closest and dearest to her. It celebrates the appear-
ance of new stars on the horizon of thought, such stars,
for example, as Roentgen, Dr. Bose, or Signor Marconi,
whose genius having accidentally generated some latent
spark, intensifies that spark into immortal fire.
But that is a broad scope of imagination which con-
TNGLESIDE LOG. 135
siders the whole world from a bird's-eye point of view,
hence we must descend to a lower level, put on our men-
tal spectacles and practice deduction.
Nordeau says, in his work on "Human Degenera-
tion " : " Humanity yearns for the beautiful and pleasing
rather than for the facts of science. The emotional
nature of man has played a more important part in the
world than his intellect. If man's destiny, his moral
condition, his education, his happiness, and his usefulness
in the world were to be determined by his intellectual
powers alone, the progress of the race would have been
infinitely more slow than it has been."
May not this be confidently disputed ? May it not
even be contradicted ? Have England, Europe, Asia,
and Africa combined, during the ages of their existence,
raised humanity to the standard which America alone
has created during one short century and a half ? And
yet America's mind has been purely a practical and a
scientific one. Possibly age may account for it all ; their
eyes are old and worn out, while ours are young and
clear, and if incased at all in glasses, not in the clumsy
smoked sort, but in lenses of precision neatly rimmed
around with common sense. For there are eyes to the
mind, as well as to the body, and very beautiful they are,
but differing widely, colored respectively with impulse
and judgment. We find the clearest vision where both
are equally called into the field of action.
Occasionally we discover a case of ' ' Both of her eyes
are so pretty that each wants to look at the other," when
their unhappy owner, instead of receiving a direct and
136 INGLESIDE LOG.
concise view of tilings, is hampered by cross or parallel
lines, or by those revolving geometrical figures, which a
rule of Ingleside concerning slang forbids my mention-
ing. He fails to see the point. Or if the point appears
at all, it is because a conspicuously dark line of bigotry
terminates in a decided splurge of visionary fanaticism.
Genius here becomes involved ; talent blindfolds the
mind, and after dragging it from one mysterious habita-
tion to another, finally initiates it into a Utopia of its own
eccentricities, where a rock is rolled against the gate, and
pistols and coffee are on hand for any moment's emer-
gency, when it may perchance have to come in contact
with the outside world.
An inventor works his brains away on some great
original enterprise, narrows his thoughts down into a
monotonous rut, and invariably dies poor as a door-
mouse, while his scheme lies dormant for another, one
with broader conceptions, who sees it in another light to
advertise and make invaluable. The spiritualist looks so
far into the ethereal, the mysterious ; he dwells so far
above the world in thought that his vision is distorted ;
and, although his intentions are earnest and good, the
views which he upholds are rather to be feared than fol-
Astigmatism, if you care to seek its meaning from
Webster, is that focal defect of the eye by cause of which
light is transferred to the brain in parallel lines. The
physical vision is helpless without the aid of some exte-
rior light ; on the contrary, mental vision finds light
within itself. Witticism is the brain's headlight ; shin-
INGLES IDE LOG. 137
ing from the eye of impulse it ill amines the intellect and
fits it for practical purposes. It conceals faults under the
cover of brilliancy, dazzles as sunlight, and gives to solid
objects an effect of transparency or hollo wness.
When wit is not forthcoming, the mind must resort to
reflection which at first is necessarily weak, and unless
the eyes are strong they injure their focal powers and
But men, as books, may be read too much. Small
print hurts the eyes, so do small matters him who studies
them too intently. We should broaden our vision.
When we have finished some one chapter of truth we
should stop there, for beyond this, further mental exertion
is uncalled for.
An artist immediately criticises work which is new to
him, which he has not, as yet, seen closely ; he is often
blind to the same faults on his own pictures which he
notices in others.
Therefore, beware of astigmatized judgment, it leads
to final destruction, and we should not mar the vanishing
point of life in such a way ; neither should we wear blue
glasses to rest the conscience when we ought to be learn-
ing the lessons of life to fit us for the final examinations.
If physical vision becomes injured, it may be improved
for us by the work of others, but for the mind we must
grind our own lenses at the wheel of time, using expe-
rience as a lubricator, and the friction of joy and sorrow
to polish and make perfect.
Amy Florence Browning, '97.
THE word bridge, which, like so many of the sugges-
tive words in our mother tongue, is of Gothic ori-
gin, signifies to span or to connect, and, in the derivate
applications, to facilitate man's passage over the manifold
difficulties, which, like the Lions in ' ' Pilgrim's Progress, ' '
threaten to bar his onward march into the realms of real-
In reviewing the history of former centuries, extend-
ing from the age of Roman Imperial Art to the present
time, there is one determinative factor which plays a
prominent part in the progress of Art, and this factor is
the Roman Bridge. It is proper, however, that this type
of structure should be considered as belonging to the most
prosaic branch of Architecture, namely, that of civil
engineering. Under whatever head it may be classified
the result is identical, the nucleus of power remains un-
altered in it and we have the foundation of modern
Surely the architect of to-day does well to study that
constructive skill and largeness of proportion in which
Roman genius displayed itself.
Take for instance the Trajan bridge built by that
Emperor across the Danube. An example of originality
INGLESIDE LOG. 139
and power it merits imitation. A similar and perhaps
equally interesting structure was erected by this Emperor
at Alcantara in Spain, of much use in its day, and serves
to illustrate how great the dependence of man has ever
been upon the shore-binders. Unparalleled in the history
of these has been the account of the bridge of boats built
by the Persian King commemorated in these words of
Milton : ' ' Xerxes over Hellespont, bridging his way,
Europe with Asia joined." How familiar to us all is
Macaulay's poem of Horatius :
"Their van will be upon us
Before the bridge goes down ;
And if they once may win the bridge
What hope to save the town ? ' '
Now in this poem we see typified the unforeseen func-
tions of the bridge in human history.
There are on record countless examples of architec-
tural design, but none more worthy of note than old
Eondon Bridge. It was at first built of wood by the
wealthy and intelligent daughter of an ignorant ferryman,
who previous to its erection plied his vocation there. This
short-lived wood structure was subsequently replaced by
one of these substantial time-defying monuments of stone.
To realize the significance of the adage " as fine as
Eondon Bridge" the inquirer must seek the pages of
volumes long hidden from the common eye, which speak
of it as one of the favorite rendezvous of the sixteenth
century, at which time it was covered with dwellings and
shops of every description. It afforded a center of traffic
and of commercial and social intercourse. Here lived in
140 INGLESIDE LOG.
close proximity poets and painters, tradesmen and philoso-
phers. All classes of society enjoyed its spacious hospi-
tality, and under the dark mantle of night the desperate
suicide besought of it a friendly passage into the realm
Other monuments, such as the famous Point-Neuf
over the Seine, the ever memorable Bridge of Sighs, and
that pride of Venice, the world-renowned Rialto, demand
a more than passing notice, as well as the efflorescence of
architectural design witnessed by that marvel of strength
and lightness the Brooklyn Bridge.
But there are other bridges than those of iron and of
stone, magic structures of the mind, which span the river
of life and reflect for good or for ill upon the builder.
For what is this life of ours but a bridge, and what are
we but builders ? and as our beloved Longfellow has it,
" Architects of our fate and fortune."
The business man's ambition is a bridge on the other
side of which he hopes to find fields of success.
The poet with glowing words gilds the common-
place of life and conducts us over the Bridge of Romance
to a brighter future beyond.
The musician following fancy's feet " builds a bridge
from dreamland for his lay. ' '
Humanity throughout all ages has built its bridges.
The trials which are mingled with the blessings of life
form the foundation of the bridge of character which
should be our best tribute of devotion to country, to
posterity, and to that divinity whose faithful children we
fain would be.
INCLESIDE LOG. 141
Life is full of vicissitudes, and breaks will come, but
he whose bridge is built upon the immovable arches of
wisdom, love, and truth will fear no future.
To-day our merry class of '97 stands mute and serious
before one of these breaks in life. Closely bound each
to the other and to our Fireside School, we gaze across
the flowing river at our feet and more eager than reluc-
tant to tread the path on the other side we still hold fast
the old life and sigh for some link to bind it to the new.
Girls, there is no choice. Life has come. The past
has been beautiful, but the future is grand and vast.
To-morrow we shall be school -girls no longer. Be it
sunshine or shadow we must meet whate'er betide.
How can we span this chasm ? How grasp the future and
yet retain the past ? How hold the Pansy, while we
wander among the flowers gay and brilliant on the other
side ? Let us remember for a moment what the past of
'97 has been !
It was in October of '92 that its history began. It is
one of the peculiarities of Ingleside, to believe in working
definitely toward some objective point ; and before '93
had received the first honors from our Alma Mater, that
wonderful class, small in numbers but mighty in noise —
we, there were then but two of us, had agreed to be their
worthy successors. The "little Colonel," with an
energy quite her own, and her friend, twice her length,
but with half her determination.
At Christmas came another maiden to join our num-
ber and we three of '97, with two other girls upon whom
our mantle falls to-day, lived a charming child life in the
142 INGLESIDE LOG.
old Cuckoo under the care of Mother Hunt, our only trial
being, that the Cuckoo was called the Baby Cottage and
we " die kleine Madchen." The Colonel is not here to-
day and her link in the chain will be missing. Is it pos-
sible a Dresden school offers half the attractions of
Ingleside to her ! Across the Atlantic we send her
The next year brought our class three new members,
and with one came into our quiet life fresh breezes from
the western prairies. Changes had been made also in
the school equipments. The Bobolink was ours and the
Bindestrich with its ample appointments for physical and
mental food bound all the cottages together.
In those early days, for reasons best known to ourselves,
we did not speak much in public of our class as a unit,
but the chain was silently lengthening and strengthening.
Through all, it was the Pansy on the chain that was the
real power in our lives. The influence was potent from
the beginning. It is not necessary to say here what this
union came to be, but we shall ever remember in review-
ing those old days the personality which held our loyal
service and the love, strong and faithful, which bound us
to the Pansy and to her.
Commencement came, and the class of '94 passed on
and off amid a wilderness of daisies, and in October of
that year, when our Alma Mater opened her arms to us,
we found again many changes had been wrought. More
bird houses had been added and merry chatterings came
from the Oriole, the Robin, and the Chickadee ; all filled
to overflowing:. Three of the new comers entered our
INGLES IDE LOG. 143
growing class and our importance was visibly increased.
Months rolled by full of interest to the prominent act-
ors in them. The girls of '95 fought their battles and
won their laurels, and '96, with the pond lily as their
emblem, floated like a dream out of our sight. In June
of '96, with the bluet in our hands, we waved farewell to
our predecessors and as the reigning class stepped into the
foreground. A new home had become ours, not ours
alone but a center for all Ingleside, and Hickory Hearth
became the fulfillment of our desires and the realization of
our hopes. Close beside it nestled the new Wigwam, and
we rolled the same balls over the same alley as of yore,
while above, under bolts and bars, the Chapter House of
the Pansy Garten guarded the Geheimness meetings.
Again October came and we turned our thoughts
toward work. Again Ingleside needed more room, and
the " Overlook," our pride and joy, the queen of all the
cottages, became our beloved home.
We cannot satisfactorily explain the attractions of
this choice abode. It has been the delight of its occu-
pants, the envy of all outsiders. To know what " Senior
privileges" signify, one must have been an Overlook;
that unique creature, which has never existed until this
year of '97 and can never exist again.
Among our memories of school life the little cottage
on the hill will be always in the foreground. The sun
has shone last and brightest on our western porch and
our class flag of white and blue has waved over many a
group of maidens standing or lounging on the balcony,
while the evening shadows fell, and the silence was broken
144 INGLESIDE LOG.
only by low voice or banjo and the tinkling of the light
guitar. The class of '98 has cast sidelong glances up the
hill; the under-class girls have feared to cross our sacred
portals and have fluttered hither and thither up and down
the Terrace, while we have calmly viewed them from
afar, working out our obligatory problems, or grinding
our voluntary ' ' grinds. ' '
Various harmonies and discords of an ambitious
character have from time to time re-echoed through our
Cottage, and Gounod and Wagner have been interpreted
energetically by enthusiastic votaries. Alas, those har-
monious duets, those choice selections from the classics !
We claim for them a lenient criticism ! Our more practi-
cal sisters surely are to blame, for our efforts were ever
rewarded by tempting dainties which spurred us on to
renewed endeavors and positively contradicted the old
adage " too many cooks spoil the broth." This year
two ' ' Days ' ' enrolled their names, and one ' ' Violet out-
side the wall," from the first a member of the class, has
left Father and Mother for our sakes and joined the
Shall we ever forget those dejeuners a la fran^aise held
in the elegant seclusion of our own abode ! The silver
urn from which a bountiful stimulant ever flowed. A
stimulant, a magnet, which even aroused the Class Baby
from her slumbers and brought our drowsy Brownie
to her breakfast. Pictures throng upon us. Susie and
her June bugs ; Lill intensely absorbed in the daily and
charmingly suspicious letter ; our modern Diogenes,
Isabel, in her celebrated barrel ; serious lectures on the
INGLESIDE LOG. 145
impropriety of partaking of the first breakfast course the
evening previous, and more serious reflections on the
sweetness of forbidden fruit !
But the Overlook joys are gone forever, and on the
June air come a fluttering and a twittering and a sound
of farewell songs, for the Cottage life is over and the
Ingleside birds are taking flight. There is another break
to bridge over, a break which affects all Ingleside. Our
banner, with its royal coloring, is to float over another
portal. There is a new home in progress for Ingleside
girls, and when we come back it will be to another fire-
side. But the old idea continues; " the thought " of the
school will be the same. The Pansy will be the emblem
still and the hands which have created Ingleside, the
hearts which have made the little Cottage School our
home, will keep the school "the girls' school " still, and
Ingleside shall hold a welcome for her children always.
So we gather up our memories to-day, and, holding them
lovingly, we build of them our Bridge. For us, girls of
'97, the sunshine of our school life breaks the cloud and
mist of the beyond, and spans, with a rainbow bridge of
promise, the surging river at our feet.
L,et us faint not nor falter but ever remain ' ' true
blue " to the end and thereby verify our class motto:
To ergon To einai Epetai.
Augusta J. Whitk, '97.
Ode to the Laurel.
FAIR Daphne, from Apollo's hot love flying,
The pitying Gods turned to a laurel tree;
Apollo stooped and plucked the dark leaves, crying :
' ' Henceforth this branch is sacred unto me.
Oh, Daphne, of the water nymphs the fairest,
Of all thy beauty this remains to me,
And when I give of my rare gifts the rarest,
Henceforth the gifted shall be crowned by thee. ' '
Seeking the haven of Apollo's shrine,
A crowd of noble pilgrims take their way;
Sweet singers rapt in harmonies divine,
Poets and princes eager, sad, and gay;
And painters, sculptors, warriors, heroes, sages
Come trooping with their off' rings rich and rare,
Thronging the vistas of the world's dim ages,
Girt round their brows a laurel wreath they wear.
From out the press the airy zephyrs flutter
A long bright tress of shining golden hair,
And tones more sweet than mortal lips can utter,
Fall like low music trembling on the air.
Who is it comes with step as soft as showers,
A queen before whom every knee must bow,
In beauty radiant as summer flowers,
Tenth of the Muses, Sappho, it is thou.
INGLESIDE LOG. 147
Before the shrine in stately Roman beauty
A matron kneels, the laurel round her brow
Grown faint with telling of the heart wrung duty
Whose doing not a whit her will could bow.
Oh, thou to whom a nation owed its life,
Who for the country doomed thy only son ;
How poor a thing to prattle of thy strife,
Record the anguish of thy victory won.
Mother of Coriolanus, that proud Roman
Whose deeds still echo in the dusky past,
Thy deed, the deed of a true Roman woman,
Shall ring while memories of great deeds last.
But who then is this other Roman mother,
Who, smiling with the love light in her eye,
As eager as a maiden for her lover
Watches the surging crowds that pass her by ?
Cornelia 'tis, who for her two sons waits ;
Her laurel wreath was bound about her head
By the two sons whom she as lovers rates.
" They are my jewels," once she said.
The deeds of these great women have a meaning
To us who laurel as our symbol wear ;
Woman, from woman's greatness gleaning
The courage for a life of toil and care.
Around us there are silent breezes blowing,
They come and go and not a trace they leave ;
Around us there are unseen laurels growing,
Known only by the fragrance that they breathe.
148 INGLE SIDE LOG.
About the brow of many a noble woman
They cling unseen with soft caressing touch,
And though she is not ancient Greek or Roman
She suffers, saves, she lives and loves as much.
Then wreathe from where the laurel grows the greenest
A chaplet for the noble and the true.
Be her life sphere the noblest or the meanest,
The strong heart, Daphne, shall be crowned by you.
HKivKN A. Hunt, '95.
Music by E. G. Clemence.
JUNK has come with all her gladness,
Budding trees and flow' rets gay,
Yet for us a minor sadness
Mingles in the song to-day.
Dainty flow'r that nods so blithely,
Bluet, symbol of our class,
Bids farewell to sister pansies
As the flitting moments pass.
Ninety-seven floating o'er us —
Banner fair of white and blue —
Binds us each to bear our colors,
Emblem of the pure and true.
Ingleside these years has held us
Safe from worldly care and strife,
And her " Work " that " Follows Being
Fits us for the school of life.
i 5 o INGLESIDE LOG.
Floating o'er another portal
We shall gold and purple find,
But these halls and homes deserted
Are within our hearts enshrined.
Therefore June with all her gladness,
Birds and buds, and flow' rets gay,
Brings to us this thought of sadness
As we sing our song to-day.
Liujan W. Underhiix, '97.
MUSIC FROM ' ' THK GKISHA. ' '
A CROWD of busy days have passed,
And many hours of pleasure
Since Ingleside has held us fast
And blessed us with her treasure ;
The hills we love are fair and green,
And in this bright June weather
We gather here beneath our tree
And sing our song together.
Rkfrain : —
To '97 now we raise
Our voices in glad shouts of praise.
Chorus : —
Hail tree of Ninety-seven,
We to thee homage pay ;
The glorious class of " 'leven,"
And at thy feet we lay
All of our fondest hope,
All of our loyal love ;
Colors so true
White and blue,
Floating o'er all above.
152 INGLE SIDE LOG.
The mem'ries thicken as we sing,
The thoughts of fun and duty,
The Overlook with all it held.
Our Alma Mater's beauty ;
And we are leaving her to-day,
The hour has come for parting,
We linger still with backward glance,
Ere on the new life starting.
Now as we enter on the years
Which Time is onward sweeping,
We dread no ill, we fear no strife
Our Future holds in keeping ;
Dear Alma Mater, as we part,
Thy spirit hov'ring o'er us,
Accept each loving girlish heart
That sings this farewell chorus.
Chorus : —
Laura M. Post, '97.
ANOTHER year has passed away,
Again with loving pride
We gather to pay homage due
To thee, O Ingleside ;
Again the loving cup goes round,
Once more we give our cheers,
We wake the echoes far and wide,
We girls of other years.
Chorus : —
To thee, O Ingleside,
Our Alma Mater dear,
We'll wake the echoes far and wide,
We girls of other years.
And as we fasten link to link,
In one continuous chain ;
So are our hearts together bound,
Which time rends not in twain,
And as the fleeting years go by
Should weal or woe betide
We'll ever turn with hearts of love
To thee, Our Ingleside.
i 5 4 INGLESIDE LOG.
And here is to trie absent ones,
Dear faces that we lack,
And here is to the glorious class
That bears the green and black.
Forever first while time shall last,
The rest must bow to thee,
Foundation of our noble band,
The class of Ninety -three.
Cho. :— K. W.
In ev'ry daisy petal white
A secret doth abide.
We were the first that ever trod
Thy halls, O Ingleside.
The purple and the gold for thee,
The gold and white we bore ;
The " Garten" founders, this our boast,
The class of Ninety-four.
Cho. :— J. h. H.
Now ye have heard the praises sun^
Of others gathered 'round ;
We sing the honors of a class
That's with the laurel crowned.
With ' ' vevo, vivo ' ' on our lips
Forever will we strive,
INGLE SIDE LOG. 155
And all with one accord shall praise
The class of Ninety -five.
Cho. :- C. U.
11 To row and not to drift " our aim,
'Mid water lilies bright,
On quiet streams our emblem floats,
The glorious green and white
The mascot of undying fame,
Our cat, success predicts ;
The first from Hickory Hearth are we,
The class of Ninety -six.
Cho.:— K. S.
Address to the Graduating Class at Ingle*
side, June 10, 1897.
By Hon. Morris W. Skymour.
WHEN I was asked to address a few words to you,
young ladies, on this, your graduation day,
there were many reasons why I gladly consented. It is
my good fortune to know many of you personally, and I
have watched your growth and education with pleasure.
But I knew Ingleside before I knew you, knew it when
as yet it was not, when it was but a dream filling the
mind and firing the heart of her who has since been its
generous patroness. Did I not know that to dwell upon
this theme would be distasteful to her, it would delight
me to recount, as I know it would you to listen to, all the
carefully considered plans and benevolent purposes, the
hopes and fears, the delights and sorrows, that entered
into the building of Ingleside long before it had a local
habitation and name. You young ladies are largely the
children of that wise planning, those loving thoughts.
If you have found here comfort in distress, strength in
weakness, knowledge in ignorance, courage in discourage-
ment, you will, if God spares your lives, hereafter appre-
ciate all that Ingleside has been to you, as you are not
INGLESIDE LOG. 157
able to to-day. To that future and the grateful thoughts
it will generate in your lives, I leave much that it would
delight me to say in praise of this institution, for it is
not of the Ingleside of the past, or even of the present,
that I would speak, but of the fruitage, the harvest of
Ingleside, which fruitage and harvest ye are.
What, young ladies, is to be the result of your education
here ? What has Ingleside done for you ? The answer to
these questions can only fully be told by its effects upon
your character, your lives. ' ' Let not him that girdeth
on his armor boast himself, as he that putteth it off."
We all hope and expect the pleasantest, happiest things
for you, and it is my desire to voice Ingleside' s parting
words of comfort and advice to you in order to assist you
in attaining them.
You have not only been fortunate in the educational,
physical, and moral surroundings of your school life here,
but to me it seems you are especially fortunate in the
time of your graduation. These are great days in which
we live. Unless all signs fail, the next half -century is
more pregnant of stupendous achievements, fateful re-
sults than all time that yet has been. To you belongs a
share in them, greater than ever yet has fallen to the lot
of woman, if you but seize the opportunity and do your
The present age has with much reason been called the
' ' Woman's Age. ' ' An entire revolution has taken place
in her position, responsibilities, and opportunities. The
new woman has come to stay, not in the form of a woman
suffragist, riding to the polls on her bicycle in a dress as
158 INGLESIDE LOG.
closely resembling that of a man as she can make it, but
a noble-hearted, courageous, two-handed woman ; one
who, reverencing her God, respects herself, hates a lie,
is intolerant of shams, insists on being a helpmate to her
husband, a mother to her children, one who appreciates
that the so-called curse on our first parents was, in fact,
no curse at all, but rather a blessing ; one who believes
idleness a sin, and ignorance and inefficiency a crime.
Already the whole face of social life has been greatly
changed. The field of woman's activities has been
greatly enlarged, and is still, day by day, more widely
Of late, a new meaning has been given the word
" education," or rather an old and proper meaning has
been restored. For generations the word has been
treated as if it was " in-ducation," a filling in, and not
" e-ducation," a drawing out the best that was in us,
which was and ever must be the prime object of all true
training. To-day the question is not, How much do you
know ? but, What can you do? That is what the world
desires to know. It demands of you results and achieve-
ments. Poetry and dreams, sensibility and emotion, are
both natural and right, beautiful and lovable, but the
sooner you realize that life is all too short to accomplish
the things that ought to be done and which I am sure
you have nobly planned to do, the sooner you will put
yourself in accord with the spirit of our day. In nearly
every college in our land, women are admitted upon an
equality with men in the course of study and for the re-
ception of the same academic degrees. She demands
INGLESIDE LOG. 159
the right to stand on the same educational plane, and is
gladly welcomed into its competitions. Gradually there
is being assigned to her a sphere appropriate to her
capabilities, and she is constantly demonstrating her
ability to fill the same. In our best educational institu-
tions, the bestowal and proper distribution of charity is
one of the subjects that is being scientifically taught ;
social problems, economic questions, the condition of the
poor, demand attention not only at the hands of the
charitable, but of government itself. To-day no ruler is
so strong or so unwise as to ignore questions of this
character. In this work woman finds a congenial and
useful sphere. Much of it she can not only do, but do
even better than man. Not only so, but she is trusted
to do it, and in the doing, daily shows her ability to fill
a still larger sphere. Nor is the opportunity wanting.
Never has the conscience of the people been so awakened
to their duty in this regard. Recently in one day's issue
of the New York press was the announcement that over
twelve millions of dollars had been given by two individ-
uals alone to ameliorate the condition of the poor in that
city. It may not be for any of you to enjoy the pleasure
of such large giving, but it is yours to assist and partici-
pate in the proper distribution of such gifts, seeing to it
that they wisely accomplish the generous purpose of the
donors, and the greatest possible good to those for whom
they were intended. Remember, ''The drying of a
single tear has more of honest fame than shedding seas
Of late a new impulse has been given to the study of
160 INGLESIDE LOG.
history through the interest excited in the patriotic and
hereditary societies so numerous in our country. A more
vivid picture has been drawn of the motives, actions, and
sufferings of our ancestors in the settlement and develop-
ment of our country, of their struggle for independence
and the establishment of the government. Some of the
very best work in these lines has been done by woman.
Her qualities of mind and heart seem especially adapted
to it, requiring as it does painstaking investigation and
Do not misunderstand me. It is not every business I
would have you undertake, but only that which is truly
womanly. What I want to impress upon your mind is
that there are more things that an educated woman can
do in a womanly way, more things that need the doing
than ever there have been before, that you are or can be
better fitted to do them, and be the better for the doing
of them, and, with me, thank God for it. Heaven never
intended that there should be any idlers in the vineyard.
Carry forward the education you have so well begun
here in some or all its branches. Remember the untold
wealth of History, Literature, and Poetry, you have up
to date been too much occupied, too busy, to read. But,
above all, read with a purpose. Be not afraid to have a
hobby, or to ride it fearlessly. L,ife is too short to com-
pass the entire field of learning. Select some branch, and
I can promise you that you will never grow weary of it.
We all have the instinct that renders us happy in prying
into the hidden things of nature. There is joy in the
chase and pleasure in accomplishment, be it music, art,
TNGLESIDE LOG. 161
history, science, literature, no matter what. The more
you know, the more you will find there is to know.
" We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best."
Do I seem to be asking too much, of you, young
ladies? I hope not, for it is the message of Ingleside I
would voice. We are all creatures of habit, and, remem-
ber, it is just as easy to form good habits as bad ; habits
of industry as easy as those of idleness. The habit of
taking bright, cheerful, helpful views of life as somber
views, disheartening alike to one's self as to those with
whom we come in contact. Have faith in God, have
high purposes, have perseverance in following them.
These will fill your heart and mind, and keep them and
your body fully occupied until that day when we shall
pass from the homes of duty and happiness, 1he Ingle-
sides of this world, to those pleasanter things that surpass
1 62 INGLE SIDE LOG.
In New Milford, Conn., September 17, 1896, a son, Burr MalxETT
Staub, to Dr. and Mrs. George Staub.
In Bridgeport, Conn., May 29, 1897, a son, David C. Sanford, Jr.,
to Mr. and Mrs. David C. Sanford.
At All Saints' Church, New Milford, Conn., October 28, 1896,
John Wiixiam Ellsworth, of Boston, Mass., to Sarah
Ann Sabine Smith, of New Milford, Conn.
In Paris, France, Pauline Otis, of Chicago, 111.
Minnie S. Blinn,
Augusta J. White,
Sarah U. Goodrich,
Mary Curry Connally,
Lillian W. Underhill,
Edwinna C. Hammond,
Regina B. Lunt,
Lily G. Hatch,
Blla Belle Sterling,
Isabel N. Smith,
Margaret M. Foster,
Caroline M. Roberts,
May S. Atwater,
Alice B. Buck,
Harriet L. McNeil,
Lois O. Pratt.
Minnie S. Blinn,
Sarah U. Goodrich,
Regina E. Lunt,
Mary Curry Connally,
Laura M. Post,
Lillian G. Hatch,
Adelaide K. Richmond,
Caroline M. Roberts,
Lillian W. Underhill,
Kdwinna C. Hammond,
Margaret M. Foster,
Augusta J. White,
Isabel N. Smith,
Harriet L. McNeil,
Alice B. Buck,
Ella Belle Sterling,
Mabel K. Child,
Susie L. Nelson,
Banner Girls, 1896=1897.
First Period, Harriet L. McNeie
Second Period, .... Annie E. Eephicke
Third Period, Annie E. Eephicke
Fourth Period, . . . Isabee Neeson Smith
Fifth Period, .... Harriet L. McNeie
Sixth Period, Ethee Hopkins
Seventh Period, . . Anna E. Feetcher
The Pansy Sweepstakes, '97.
Anna E. Fletcher, . . . Denver, Col.
\ Alice B. Buck,
. Ansonia, Ct.
New Milford, Ct.
Mabel K. Child, Lakewood, N. J.
Evangeline Cape, Washington, Ct.
Anna E. Fletcher, Denver, Col.
Ethel Hopkins, B'klyn, N.Y.
Newark, N. J.
Colorado Springs, Col.
" Robert C. Black
Prize " for best
work in the Gym-
Augusta Julia White,
New York City
The Pansy Garten.
'• Tapfcr ernst und
Mrs. Wm. D. Black,
Augusta J. White, ....
LlLEIAN W. UNDERHIEE,
Harriet L. McNeil, ....
Sophie Boucher, ....
A. J. White,
Harriet L. McNeil,
Lillian W. Underhill,
Anna E. Fletcher,
Isabel N. Smith,
Edwinna C. Hammond,
Freelove Schlager Pierce, Florence Walker,
Gertrude M. Sanford,
Jean Lee Hunt,
Margaret L- Sanford,
Helen A. Hunt,
Eva C. Jones,
Cora L. Underhill,
, Helen Woodward,
Marguerite Dewey Delafield,
Julia L. McNeil,
* Helen Mary Taylor,
* Died July 28, 1895.
Ingleside Golf Club.
Miss Jean Lee Hunt
IvII/I/IAN W. UNDERHII.lv
Amy Florence Browning
Mrs. Wm. D. Black,
Miss Jean Lee Hunt,
Anna E. Fletcher,
Bdwinna C. Hammond,
Sarah U. Goodrich,
Mrs. F. B. Draper,
Laura M. Post,
Augusta H. Kuevals,
Susie L. Nelson,
Lillian W. Underhill
May L. Baker,
Miss Jennie Sanford,
Isabel N. Smith,
Hattie L. McNeil,
Varina H. D. Hayes,
Lois O. Pratt,
Rev. F. B. Draper, Augusta J. White,
Alice E. Bliss.
Names of Links.
No. i— The Kant
" 2— The Great Scott
" 3— The Hope
" 4 — THE IyONGFEEI/OW
" 5 — The Kidd's Evolution
No. 6 — The Swift
" 7— The Pitt
" 8— The Dickens
" 9 — The Homer
Killie, Killeek ! A cleek, a cleek !
Chilli-how-ee ! A tee, a tee !
Caddy-co-ax ! Score your whacks !
Green and white for I. G. C. ! ! !
Ingleside Kodak Klub.
REGina B. Lunt . President
Harriet L. McNeil T Vice-President
Rae M. Seymour Secretary
Sarah U. Goodrich Treasurer
Mrs. Wm. D. Black, Miss Charlotte Boyer.
Mrs. Wm. D. Black, Varina H. D. Hayes,
Miss Charlotte Boyer, Alice B. Bliss,
Clara Carnahan, May S. Atwater,
Regina B. Lunt, Harriet L. McNeil,
Sarah U. Goodrich, Harriet S. Hastings,
Rae M. Seymour.
Blizabeth Gair, Zady Robbins,
Lois O. Pratt, Mabel Colvin,
Mrs. Jessie B. Taylor, Miss Margaret Rinker,
Laura M. Post.
Ingleside Q. B. C.
Anna E. Fletcher,
Varina H. D. Hayes,
Susie Iv. Nelson,
Jane S. Abert,
Augusta H. Knevals,
Clara C. Carnahan,
Hattie L. McNeil,
Mrs. Wm. D. Black, Patroness and Manager, . Hickory Hearth
Miss E. B. Van De Water, Head Mistress, . . The Hall
REV. F. B Draper, . The Rectory
Mrs. Jessie B. Taylor, The Overlook
Miss Charlotte Boyer, .... The Bindestrich
Miss I. M Newton, The Studio
Fraulein E. Pelgry, The Robin
MllE. Aguste Fargier, The Hall
Miss Edith Warner, The Chickadee
Mr. W. F. Hart, Hotel Weantinaug
Mr. E. G. ClEmence New York City
Miss Henri ette Fellows, The Studio
Miss Jean Lee Hunt, The Cuckoo
Miss Eva C. Jones, The Cuckoo
MLLE HorTENSE Dardon, .... Hickory Hearth
Miss Beatrice Mocs, The Robin
Miss Carrie Newton, . . . . . The Studio
Mr. C. F. Daniels, . . . . . . New York City
Mr. C. H. BuTTERiCK, .... New Haven, Conn.
Mr. H. E. Neweee, Bridgeport, Conn.
Mrs. HEEEN D. Hunt, House Mother, . . . The Robolink
Miss Cora F. Hill, Secretary, .... Hickory Hearth
Miss M. Rinker, Bookkeeper, . . . The Bindestrich
MiSS M. U. Pennybacker, Household Manager, The Bindestrich
Miss M. Doone Pennybacker, Housekeeper, The Bindestrich
Miss Evangeline Rinker, Dressmaker and Seamstress,
Augusta J. White, . .
Anna E. Fletcher, ....
Amy Florence Browning,
Lieeian W. Underhiee,
Susie L. Neeson,
Isabee N. Smith, . . . . ,
Laura M. Post,
Aetce B. Buck,
Augusta H. Knevaes, ....
Harriet L. McNeie
Edwinna C. Hammond,
Caroeine M. Roberts, ....
May T. AtwaTER, ....
Katharine Atwater, ....
Emma W. Cooke, .
Bertha Granger, ....
Mabee K. Chied,
Steeea Bissett, .
. New York City
. Devon, Pa.
. Morristown, N. J.
. Ansonia, Conn.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
New York City
New Mil ford, Conn.
New York City
New York City
New York City
Hornellsville, N. Y.
Nelson County, Va
Lake wood, N. J
Newark, N. J
Lois 0. Pratt,
New York City
Elizabeth Gair, Brooklyn, N. Y.
Mabel D. Colvin, ...... Brooklyn, N. Y.
Rae M. Seymour, . . . . . Washington, D. C.
Harriet Hastings, Morristown, N. J.
Alice E. BUSS, . Hartford, Conn.
Mtedred Warner, Pawling, N. Y.
Zady Robbins, Gt. Barrington, Mass.
May L. Baker, Hartford, Conn.
Clara Carnahan, Fort Wayne, Ind.
Curry Connally Richmond, Va.
Ethel Hopkins, . Brooklyn, N. Y.
CarlilE D. Walker, .... Richmond, Kentucky
Jane AberT, . . . . . . Washington, D. C.
Minna Field Washington, D. C.
Florence Hammond, Missoula, Mon.
Evangeline Cape, Washington, Conn.
Mildred Thorpe, . Philadelphia, Pa.
Margaret E. Lunt, .... Colorado Springs, Col.
Regina E. Lunt,
Varina H. D. Hayes,
Sarah U. Goodrich, ....
Adelaide K. Richmond,
Colorado Springs, Col.
Colorado Springs, Col.
. Hartford, Conn.
. Buffalo, N. Y
INGLE SIDE LOG.
MlNNlE S. BUNN,
Lillian G. Hatch,
Laura H. Hill,
Julie B. Jennings,
Bessie C. Brown,
Nellie M. Kimlin,
Bessie N. Booth,
Adaline LeRoy Buck.
MW 28 1935
mmVI OF ILLINOIS
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